#makes me so sad we don’t really have a maiden name for her

[theshadowrealmitself]

I’m so fascinated by Diane Sanchez as a character and how she could fit in their universe as well as how she can be utilized by the fandom, but then I try to go into her tag and it’s stuff like “smartest Diane au where Summer has Morty’s personality” so the whole thing just feels like genderbent Rick and Morty instead Diane’s own au, or it’s stuff like “what if Diane doesn’t actually exist” which makes no fucking sense to me

I’m frustrated!! Like we’ve seen from Rick C-137 and Simple Rick that they were so happy with Diane, and the only time we see Diane is from memories and stuff, we never see another actual alternate version of her (except I think in the comics with Rebel Rick and isn’t it implied that she got killed while he was away???), and I’m obsessed with the implications that all the Ricks we’ve seen have lost their own Dianes and it’s made them into bitter assholes

I would love to see the fandom theorize what would happen if they met an alternate Diane, I would love au’s where she’s the smartest person in her universe where they actually treat Diane like she’s Diane and not just genderbent Rick (personally, I think she’s a bit sweeter than Rick, my own hc is that she’d make a device to hide herself instead of using kids, if she brought any grandchildren along it would be just to let them have a fun adventure)

I just think for the whole multiverse and citadel of Ricks, Diane would be such a fascinating character to introduce to it

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Chapter 4: So It Goes...

18++++++***** MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT. Mentions of death. P n V, unprotected (wrap it up folks). Oral receiving, fingering. but really this is the chapter you've been waiting for. 😘🥵🥵 *** I wrote this chapter to the song So it Goes by Taylor Swift**

(not my picture. Photo cred: Pinterest)

Dani got home a little later. She spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh and the super hot kiss they shared. The words he said to her, making her mind race. He had asked her to maybe get coffee and maybe if they did that and she got to know him, it would help get him out of her mind. She decided she was going to ask him that day. 

After the grueling day of filming they had, Dani saw Hugh walking back to his trailer and decided it was now or never. 

“Hugh,” she called out. He turned around, a smile crossing his face. 

“What’s up darlin’?” he asked. 

“Would you like to get coffee with me?�� 

“When?” he asked. 

“Now? Or whenever you’re done?” she replied. 

“Let me get changed.” 

“Cool, I’ll be in my trailer.” 

As she waited for Hugh in her trailer, scrolling her phone, her heart began to race. It was going to be just the two of them. It’s fine. You’re just co-stars, maybe potential friends. Get him out of your system, he’s old enough to be your father. She was lost in her overthinking when there was a knock on her trailer door. 

“Come in,” she said, as the door began to swing open. Hugh walked in, wearing his signature tight black t-shirt and jeans. Goddammit he’s fine. 

“Hi darlin’. Are you ready?” he asked. Dani nodded. They began to walk over to where their cars were parked. “Want me to drive?” 

“That’s fine,” she answered. A smile crossed his face as he opened the passenger door for her. She had a surprised look on her face when he got in the car. 

“What’s the look for?” he asked with a laugh. 

“I’ve never had a guy do that for me before and I’m from the South,” she replied. Hugh started up the car as they took off. 

“Well, sounds like you haven’t been around real gentlemen.” The comment took Dani aback, but it made her smile as they looked for a coffee shop. 

A little while later, they found a perfect little coffee shop out of the way as they sat there together. 

“Other than you being extremely feisty and can fucking sing, tell me more about yourself,” Hugh started. Dani looked taken aback, but she was ready. She took a sip of her latte and began talking. 

“Well, I’m originally from Georgia. My real name is Danielle Olivia James-Levy, but because of the Levy acting family, I chose to go by Danielle James, my mother’s maiden name. I went to school for Business, thinking I wasn’t going to go into the family business, but fell in love with theater when I was there and got a dual major.” 

“Wow, beautiful and smart. I knew you acted, but I didn’t know you did theater. Is that where the singing comes from?,” Hugh asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, it’s something I don’t get to do a whole lot of. I would do small shows in between acting gigs, while working a real job, until something happened. The singing thing on the other hand, that’s something I’ve done since I was kid. I’d walk around singing, enough for everyone to tell me to shut up once in a while.” She looked over at Hugh who couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “So, enough about me. How about you?” 

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Well, there isn’t too much about me that you can’t find online. Well, other than what I mentioned to you the other day.” 

“I’m sorry you’re going through that. Do you want to talk about it?” Dani asked. Hugh’s eyes got soft, almost like sadness came through them. 

“We don’t have to sweetheart,” he started. 

“You listened to me and I promised you I’d listen,” a warm smile crossed her face. 

“Well, my ex-wife and I had been married for almost 27 years. We met back on a TV show in Australia. She was older and I thought she was out of my league, but it worked out. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to have biological children of our own, but we adopted two wonderful kids. Now that the kids are older and have their own lives, I guess during Covid, we were spending so much time together, it felt more like a friendship than a marriage and got worse during the writer’s strike. We did everything we could to save it, but we both felt like the relationship had run its course. It just feels weird.” 

“Like you’ve been in the relationship so long, you don’t know where to go next. I mean I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing of that caliber. I commend you for making a relationship work in Hollywood, especially when you’re as big a star as you are.You just don’t see that anymore.” “That’s very sweet,” he answered. “I’m curious about something you didn’t mention. Shawn is your Uncle, how’s the relation work?” 

Dani took a long sip of her latte before beginning. “Well, My dad was Shawn’s older brother, but passed away in a car accident when I was 25. It was something we asked to keep out of the public and the reason I shelved my dreams for a while. My mom still lives in Georgia with her new husband, finally happy again.” She looked over at him and he had a surprised look on his face.

His hand reached across the table, grabbing hers. “I’m sorry about you dad, sweetheart. I lost mine in 2020, his eyes meeting hers. The more she was around this man, she was finding it harder to not want to be with him. Fuck the age difference. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your dad too,” she replied as he squeezed her hand. She kept looking over at him, not being able to take her eyes off of the gorgeous man in front of her and it looked like he was on the same page. “I guess it's getting late.” 

He nodded as they left the cafe and got into his car. He opened her door for her as he took off. He turned on some music and So it Goes… by Taylor Swift began to drift through the radio. She glanced over at Hugh driving and felt her heart racing, not knowing what was going to happen next. He caught her stare as his hand reached over and found her leg. They stopped at a red light as Dani went for it. 

“Hugh,” she breathed, coming over the center console and kissing him. He reciprocated, but then the light changed. “I’m sorry…,” she started. Before she could get the words out, he pulled the car over in a dark alley as he came over the center console and kissed her. Their lips and tongues in a hot tangled mess. Dani reached for anything she could, to be closer to this man. He pulled back and cupped her face. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop myself and I won’t unless you want me to,” he started. 

“Your place or mine?” Dani breathed. Hugh drove to his flat immediately. 

They all but kicked down the door to his flat as they stayed intertwined. The second the door shut behind them, Hugh picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as his hands cupped her ass, their kissing, feverish. 

As they fell on the bed, he braced himself above her, getting lost in her green eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. She nodded her head as she sat up and yanked her shirt over her head followed by her bra and threw them on the floor. He followed suit and his shirt ended up in the pile on the floor. He went for the waistband of her leggings, slowly pulling them down with her panties. “Fuck,” he groaned, taking in the naked woman in his bed. 

“Pants off, Jackman,” she ordered, a smirk on her face. 

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, undoing his belt, and kicking off his pants and boxers, crawling over her. 

Dani propped herself up on her elbows and looked at the man in front of her. He may be 55 years old, but he was built like a fucking god. From the way his muscles bulged to the way his v-line was sculpted. Then she caught sight of the happy trail of hair that led to his perfect dick. God he was huge. 

He began kissing her lips before moving to her neck, making her arch into him. He liked her reaction as he continued down her body, to her breasts as he circled each peak with his tongue, while never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” she moaned. He added to her pleasure as she felt the pad of his finger on her clit. 

“Sweetheart, so wet for me,” he groaned, moving down her body and to her pussy. His tongue began soft strokes, before he plugged right in. She cried out at that feeling as she grabbed for his hair as he pulled her down to the end of the bed to devour her even more. The feeling of his facial hair added to the pleasure. 

This man has experience. 

“I can’t…,” she cried out, letting her orgasm go. 

“God, you taste so good sweetheart,” he replied, wiping her juices from his beard and moving back over her. He stilled above her for a moment, realizing something. “Princess, I wasn’t planning on sex tonight, so I’m not prepared.” 

“I’m on birth control, Hugh. I need you too much to stop now,” Dani answered, pulling him down to her as their lips locked and she tasted herself on him. His long fingers found her soaking core as he began pumping just enough to get her honey on him as he stroked it down his cock. He grabbed ahold of himself as he teased her with his tip at her entrance. 

“You ready sweetheart?” he asked. Dani nodded as he began to push himself inside. He stilled for a moment at how tight she was and that if he began to move, he might just bust. 

“Move, please,” she begged. His hips began to move slowly, savoring every moment with Dani. The hold this woman had on him in a short amount of time was baffling, but god, did he feel something with her. Her lips on his, her nails digging into his back, the way she molded to him. 

Dani’s hip movements began to meet his own and he felt like he might be a goner. He grabbed her hands with his, interlacing their fingers, pressing them into the mattress sending them both spirling and fast. “God sweetheart, you are fucking perfect,” he said, kissing her. 

Her heart began to race again as electricity shot through her body at his words and his movements as she clenched down on him and hard. He wanted to be as close to her as possible as his forehead touched hers as he knew he was done for. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he chased his own release, white-hot ropes, coating her insides. He finished as he stayed locked on her, both panting and sweaty. The connection between the two of them, intensifying. He pulled out as their releases flooded out of Dani, turning Hugh on even more. He got out of bed to his bathroom to clean up and brought her back a towel. 

“Sorry, the old man hasn’t done this in a while, so I wasn’t prepared,” he said with a laugh, getting back in bed. 

“You’re fine,” she replied. 

“Come here,” he said, offering his arm. Dani moved over and cuddled into him as he kissed her forehead. “Did the old man do ok?” he asked. 

“More than ok. You were fucking phenominal,” she replied, drawing circles on his chest and feeling across his toned abs. “Can I tell you something?” He raised an eyebrow at her question. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” 

“First of all, stop calling yourself old man. Second, I may have known what you looked like from your movies, but until I saw you at dinner, I never knew how attracted I was to you. I went home that night and the night after you came to my trailer and got myself off to the thoughts of you.”

Hugh began stroking her hair. “Well, sweetheart, that’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say, but since the night of the dinner, I can’t be in a room and not think about the bad things I want to do to you.” 

“So, it sounds like we’re on the same page,” she answered, putting her head on his chest. 

“Yes sweetheart, it does,” he answered. Hugh interlaced their hands, wrapping his arms tighter around her, knowing that with Dani he felt a new chapter of happiness. 

[wizardofpalmsprings]

Cold Conviction: a one off about what Lucy Frostblade’s last moments might have been like. Some mention of gore, mention of death. Some creative liberties taken and I have not gone back to check this for spelling or grammar ( forever posting a first draft 🫡)

“Please, Lucy- just listen to me—“

“Do you know what you’re asking me, Kipperlily?”

Tears well in Lucy’s eyes, a hand on her chest tugging at a well loved sweater. There’s pain in her heart, pain for the brief second in which she considered what is being asked of her. The pain of giving up on something she has held so dear for so long.

Ruvina. She couldn’t give up on her goddess, the very thing that connected her to her culture. Harsh as the cold and the wind was, she was a part of Lucy’s heritage, and keeping close to others made them warm against her cold. Why would she need anything else?

There’s a whisper at the back of her mind, the pull of something familiar, as Kipperlily promises something strong, something powerful. Something full of rage. They can face down whatever, they just have to give themselves over to this god. The sensation of warmth, of light, a counterbalance to Ruvina’s own domain.

The warmth becomes a burning heat. A signal that something is wrong.

Some gods speak directly to their followers, others give them visions and feelings to interpret. Ruvina is trying to tell her something, a warning against a darker path.

Lucy looks down at her hands. Hands that have healed, hands that held Kilperlily’s as they promised to watch each other’s backs. How they held hands as Kipperlily argued in favor of keeping the name “The High Five Heroes”. Hands that held her dying friend in the Mountains of Chaos not long ago.

They are now clenched in defiance against stacking odds.

Emboldened, she takes a strong stance against her friends. Her friend.

A tear escapes her eye.

“I won’t be bullied into this.” She declares. “Don’t you hear yourself? You want me to pledge myself to a different god so you can get your revenge?”

Kipperlily’s back is to the woods, a dagger in her hand. Her brow creased so hard Lucy wonders if it might be stuck that way. Beside them, the lake glistens in the dim light from the moon over head. Even in this light, Lucy can see a mix of fear, anger, and sadness in Kipperlily’s eyes. It’s the anger that’s the strongest, replacing the annoyance and frustration that had been so prevalent in the past couple of years.

“You’re making a mistake.” Kipperlily says through gritted teeth, her grip on the dagger intensifying. “We can be heroes! we can do the things we’ve only dreamed about doing! We can be better than them!”

There is venom on the “them”. Kipperlily is blinded by her ambition, a need to surpass someone who seemingly has it all. The tragic backstory, the skills, the friends. It was something Lucy could never fully understand, but she listened to her talk about wanting to be one of the best rogues in the world, how she wanted the chance to save someone - save the world.

Lucy herself never had any quarrels with the Bad Kids, another adventuring party at their school. One of many, but one of the only ones to really take a stand in recent memory. They’d killed Kalvaxus at the end of their Freshman year and by all accounts, that was a pretty rad thing to do. Killed by Riz Gukgak, then slain again by the Maidens who, understandably, wanted to get their revenge.

But Kipperlily was seemingly upset by the fact that Riz had this tragic tale to him, that he “got” to have his father eaten by Kalvaxus and “get” to have that revenge arc. Kipperlily wanted for nothing, and yet she wanted for something that would give her glory.

At first it was petty jealously, but ever since her death, her tune had changed. They all had, in fact. It was gradual, but Lucy was beginning to notice a rage building in all of them. Subtle in some, Mary Ann was still Mary Ann and Oisin still appeared relatively calm, but she could see it in them too. She was starting to feel very lonely.

Lucy’s hands are balled into fists. “Is that all you want? You want to be better than them?”

“Yes!” Kipperlily sounds exasperated. “What’s so hard to understand about that?!”

Anger boils in Lucy.

“Isn’t it enough that we’re together?!?” She snaps. “Is it not enough for you that we get to hang out with our friends? Think about everything we could be doing! All the problems we can solve- we can get better and go back to the Mountains and do what we set out to do in the first place!”

Kipperlily looks down at the dagger in her hand, then back up at Lucy. For a split second, she sees the young halfing girl she met on the first day of school, a book clutched to her chest, a bright smile on her face. She thinks about how in the following months, they’d braid each other��s hair and share secrets no one else knew. She thinks about their promise. A promise to face the world together.

“Don’t you trust me?” Kipperlily asks. Another twinge of pain, this time at the deception. Kipperlily knows how to get what she wants. “I’m doing this for us! When the rage god returns, we can be glorious, Lucy. The two of us- together.”

Ruvina’s warning returns. Warmth, heat, fire - Rage.

Lucy stands her ground. She shakes her head and Kipperlily’s bravado falters.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t turn my back on everything I’ve ever known.” She pauses. All she has to do is say one thing, and she knows what’s coming. But she can’t back down either. “Im sorry you can’t be him.”

Rage flairs in Kipperlily’s eyes. Shes too quick, she’s on her in a matter of seconds, cold steel cutting through Lucy’s body. Lucy closes her eyes, accepting her fate and falling back with arms outstretched.

It’s cold. It’s so cold. Shes doesn’t even feel it as Kipperlily continues to slice at her out of sheer anger.

She doesn’t want to die. She doesn’t want to leave her friends, her family, everything behind, but little choice is given to her.

There’s an embrace, deep and cold, as Ruvina takes her in. But then the feeling is jerked away, warmth and light finding her instead.

No, not warmth and light. Rage, it’s the heat of rage.

A hand reaches out to her, coal black with ribbons of fierce hot magma. She looks up, seeing a stern face looking down at her coldly. In this moment, she realizes the connection to Ruvina.

“I’m sorry, but my answer is no.”

The hand withdrawals. A flash of something on the face - pride. Pride in her conviction, in a sense of personal justice.

The heat fades to warmth, then the loving embrace of a goddess returns, briefly, to cradle her. Shes not sure if she’s at peace, but she’s fine to rest here until such a time comes.

[enneadau]

False Light Spoilers:

As per usual, don't read if you don't want spoilers...

“Not all of us are here unwillingly.” The older woman smiled as she took a ladle of the soup like substance in the huge, hot bowl and tipped it into a waterskin, “We chose to join the game.”

--

“Why would you help me?”

“Why?” Honda felt like a small child, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Something I’m not sure the Tomb Keepers are aware of, is that the seal? It’s not whole anymore. There’s tears in it where people have either tried to access the power, or shove something into the darkness. Tears that have needed constant watching and rituals to avoid the Shadows escaping.”

“Shit…”

“Language.” She scolded good humoredly, “But I can understand the sentiment. I come from a village above one of the rifts, and well…”

“It went wrong?”

“Oh, far from it, at least when it was mine and my sister’s turn.”

“Your sister’s here too?”

“No, no.” The woman gave a sad smile as her hands lit up with a blue glow and she cupped the hot bag of liquid, “My sister lived a good while after our turn came up, but she was a part of why I’m here. Our ritual required twins, you see. One incredibly powerful soul, split into two people, not unlike the royal twins.”

Honda nodded, thinking about the way Yugi and Sakhmet considered themselves twins, and what they could be when working as one.

“To keep the rift sealed, I was raised to believe my duty was to die, while my sister’s duty was to end my life."

“You’re serious?” Shock was etched in every fiber of his being. “Why would she WANT to?”

“Now now, she hated it, hated that she was the younger, so she had to be the one to send me here, but we didn’t really have a choice.” She scolded as steam rose off the bag, suggesting it was rapidly cooling.

“You see, the duty of the elder was to come over to this side and hold the gate closed, while the younger, the Remaining, who got marked by the crimson butterfly, became whole and gained access to the power that had been divided. They were supposed to stay in the village and use that power to become a shield against the Shadows on that side, and my sister did that for a decade or two, but I can’t really blame her for falling in love. I met the boy when he got caught up in a Shadow Game and well, I’d have run away with him too. Plus, their granddaughter is an absolute sweetheart.”

She shrugged, but Honda was livid on her behalf. “She killed you, then ran away?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get my freedom too, one day.” The woman grinned at him, “I held the doors as long as I could, and the last Maiden who was supposed to hold the doors closed decided to go back through the gate and destroy our home instead, because her sister refused to take her place in the ritual, so if my sister hadn’t run, she’d have ended up like the others.”

The lack of venom in the woman’s voice calmed Honda a little, “What happened to that rift?”

“It was drowned under a lake, along with the whole village and became a reservoir.” The woman shrugged, “I have to say, it’s been nice to get some fresh water occasionally, even if I worry about the amount that’s wasted every time some fool thinks they can escape that way, forgetting they need to breathe once they’re in the living world.”

Honda blinked, considered how much water was in a reservoir that they would have to swim through, and shuddered

“Besides, I just have to wait for the Final Sacrifice. The last act that will seal the doors forever. That’s not that far off now. After that, everyone will be free to leave and head into the afterlife, and I’m far from the first Maiden. I’ve not waited that long.”

“So, you joined the game to make sure you got to leave?”

“Well, the Final Sacrifice can’t happen if Anubis kills the younger twin, can it?”

Honda’s eyes widened.

“Not a word to the little Pharaoh though, or she’ll balk and it won’t happen.”

“But Sa…”

“Don’t. Say. Her. Name.” The friendly, polite tone turned sharp and angry as the woman cut him off, “Don’t say her name, don’t say the little one’s name, just keep your mouth closed. You’ll cost your friend the game and her life.”

“Sorry…”

“You couldn’t have known.” The tone changed again, back to the niceties of before, “But don’t worry, I said we get to go to the afterlife, didn’t I?”

Honda relaxed a little.

“Now,” She stood up and headed for the big tent Anubis had just left, gesturing in their direction, “Come and help me sort this out.”

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

What if Spider reported to Norm that Fike and Quaritch were in contact and a meeting took place?

Part 1 and part 2

I don’t think Spider would rat on Fike just because he doesn’t want his kids to end up like him. If he told Norm he’d tell him that his dad approached him at school and tried to have a conversation with him. Norm would move him immediately. I can see this going two ways.

The first way: Quaritch has already started the process of regaining custody and decides that that’s still the best course of action. Spider telling on him is definitely a bump in the road but Quaritch’s lawyer spins it saying (honestly actually) that Quaritch had no idea his son was there and went over with the intent of having dinner with his friend and nothing more. Fike would claim that he had no idea Spider was Quaritch’s son due to Spider’s last name not matching his father’s. The counter argument would of course be that Socorro was Paz’s maiden name and Fike knew her before she was married so how did you not put two and two together. Fike would just shrug and claim that he just hadn’t. Maybe they’d even pay off the judge

But the other option more in line with cabin: Fike can tell that Spider wants to get away. The kid has asked to borrow a phone and because he couldn’t say why Fike didn’t let him figuring he wanted to call his social worker. So Fike hides the phones away but first he calls Quaritch to formulate a plan. Quaritch is upset to hear it but he can’t let this opportunity go. He wanted the cabin to be more along- the structure is built and he’s gotten the garden started but he still needs to get a lot of furniture built, get the basement stocked with everything they might need and then get anything else he can’t carry airlifted in by one of his teammates - but the timing is to good to pass up on. So Fike tells Spider that he wants to take him shopping. Spider doesn’t think a thing of it. It’s not uncommon for a new foster family to want to buy him a new toy or a few new pieces of clothing. Fike drives for twenty minutes which does seem strange but Fike said he’s taking him to the good mall in the richer county. But when they get to the mall it looks abandoned. Theres only one car in the whole parking lot. They park right next to it. Spider starts panicking when he sees his father in the driver seat. “What’s going on,” he asks as Fike and Quaritch get out of their cars. He doesn’t get a response.

Fike opens the door to the passenger seat looking at least a little sad over the situation, “come on kid.” But Spider doesn’t. Instead he scrambles to get out the driver side door.

His father grabs him around the middle, “easy tiger. It’s alright….”

“Help!” Spider screams despite seeing what a ghost town the area is. “Somebody help me!”

(I know in my last post i gave an age range of 10-12 for Spider in this au so now I’m just going to pick the middle) Quaritch has no trouble prying his 11 year old out of the car. Spider might be tall for his age but he’s still really little and scrawny. For Quaritch the kid is like nothing. He wrestles his son into the backseat of his car as he kicks and screams. Quaritch gives him a little something to keep him calm but not knock him out, thanks Fike for everything then speeds off. Fike goes to the mall closer to home and makes a show of looking for his “missing” child. Manks volunteered to be a mall cop for a day and is in the office where he “accidentally” destroys the security footage for the day. After hours Fike calls the police claiming that his foster son has run away. He planted “evidence” in Spider’s room that would corroborate that story. A kidnapping is barely considered.

Meanwhile Spider is on the road trip from hell. He’s all loopy, the scenery going by in a blur. His dad is talking to him but the words are gibberish. Maybe he’s talking too? Or drooling? He can’t really tell until the drugs start to wear off. “Where are we going,” he asks when he can finally speak without slurring his words. His limbs still feel heavy and he’s super tired.

“Home,” Quaritch says simply. “Now you listen up. I’m your father and i love you very much. All i want is what’s best for y’a. I believe you’ll see that being with me is better than being kicked around the foster system. You’re just used to that right now. I’ll show y’a how good life will be with your family….”

“I’ll scream. I’ll run away as soon as i can…”

His dad laughs, “oh I’m sure you’ll try. But i will tan your hide if you step out of line, understood.” Spider hisses at him. Quaritch shakes his head, “you’ll learn.”

Spider is sat in the middle of the backseat with some kind of bright red child lock on the buckle of his seatbelt. He can’t reach the windows to bang on the glass in the hopes that someone will see him. No doubt the doors are child locked too. “Let me out!” Spider shouts, “let me out, let me out, let me out!” His dad just turns up the music. Spider screams himself horse trying to break the man but it doesn’t work. When his throat starts to ack painfully he finally quiets.

Quaritch turns down the music then holds out a bottle of water to him, “thirsty?” Spider glares as he swipes the bottle from his hand. His dad chuckles as he watches him drink. After about twenty minutes of silence Quaritch asks, “can we talk?”Spider’s throat feels swollen so he’s pretty sure he can’t talk so he simply glares. “Come on kid, you can’t tell me this isn’t for the best. I’ve been checkin’ in on you for years so I know you haven’t always had good foster placements. They never cared for y’a. But I love y’a! You’re my boy and I’d do anything for y’a. I know you’ve been told I’m dangerous and that this all probably doesn’t change that. But hear me out. I went to prison for taking revenge on your mama’s killer. I beat him within an inch of his life. But I didn’t kill him! He woke up from his coma and now he’s a middle manager at his daddy’s company. He’s doin’ just fine but I lost everything! I lost my wife, my freedom and most important I lost you. And then I did everything the courts told me to do to get y’a back. But the courts were corrupt! They let your mama’s killer get off with community service. They kept you away from me! In what world do you keep a loving father away from his child! That’s why I couldn’t trust it again. But I had to get y’a back. All I want is what’s best for y’a. I’ll break every law in the book for that.”

The account gives Spider a lot to think about. He can see his father’s point of view. He’s happy his mom was avenged but it’s also terrifying thinking of his father nearly killing a man with his bare hands. The fact that his mom’s killer didn’t get life in prison boils his blood and definitely makes him believe the courts are corrupt. Maybe they were wrong to take him away from his dad. Maybe his dad is just trying to save him from a life in the system.

They pass state lines. He’s not really sure how far away Missouri is from D.C but he’s sure it’s far. “We’re coming up on a rest stop. Y’a need to use the bathroom?” Spider just nods too stunned by the distance they’ve traveled to respond.

They pull off at a gas station. Quaritch refuels the car leaving Spider locked inside. Once he’s done he slides into the backseat next to Spider. “What’cha thinking tiger. Y’a want to stay with papa?”

Spider bites his lip to stop it from trembling and shakes his head no, “you’re scary.”

Quaritch sadly pats his shoulder, “I don’t have to be. Now we’re going to go inside. If you’re good I won’t have to be scary. But if you’re bad and try to tell any of the nice people inside what’s going on, well then, I might have to show y’a what I did to your mama’s killer.” Spider turned white as a ghost. “So y’a gonna be good?” He weakly nods. His dad smiles and undoes the child lock on his seatbelt. When Spider steps out of the car Quaritch smiles and holds out his hand for him to take. Spider looks around at all the people, the mom with her kids refueling their van. The many different adults getting gas on their way home from work. Could his dad hurt all of them? Spider couldn’t let him hurt any of them. So he takes his dad’s hand.

First they use the restroom Spider in a stall, Quaritch the urinal so he can block any escape attempt. As soon as their hands are washed and dried Quaritch grabs Spider’s hand again. Spider hangs his head as he’s led around the connivence store. He’s gotten lucky with his last few foster placement who had respected it when he’d said he was growing his hair out. Now it was just long enough to hide his face and he was so thankful for it. He didn’t want anyone to see him and possibly give his father a reason to hurt them. “Do you want any snacks?” Spider stays quiet. His dad picks out a few bags of chips and some beef jerky. “How about some candy?” Quaritch gently tucks some of Spider’s hair behind his ear, taking away his hiding place. He picks out some sour skittles just to keep him happy. “And how about a hotdog? Or do y’a want a corn dog instead?”

“Corn dog,” Spider mumbled

“What was that?”

“A corn dog please.”

His father smiles, stroking his hair. “You got it kiddo.”

They get to the register where Quaritch pays for everything plus the gas in cash. The young cashier gives Spider a sympathetic smile. “Aw what’s the matter sweetie,” she asks.

Spider looks at her like a deer in the headlights. He can’t think of a lie and so instead he shyly hides behind his dad. Quaritch gives him a sad smile dropping his hand only to pull him into a side hug and rub his shoulder. “He’s having a bad day,” Quaritch says, “he lost his soccer game this morning and he’s still really upset.”

“Aw, it’s okay! You’ll get’em next time.” Spider refuses to look at her but she doesn’t give up. “What’s your name?”

Spider startles looking up to his dad for an answer. “Go on. Tell this nice young lady your name.”

That instantly makes him know exactly what answer his dad is wanting. “Miles,” he says reluctantly.

“Well Miles,” she reaches into a freezer off to the side of the counter pulling out an ice cream cone dipped in chocolate, “here’s a treat. Everything will get better soon.”

“What do you say son.”

“Thank you,” it’s taking everything in him not to cry.

But once they’re back on the highway Spider finally breaks down. He never allows himself to cry but now he just can’t help it. He’s sobbing, hyperventilating, tears and snot pouring down his face. He doesn’t realize when Quaritch pulls over. Suddenly he’s wrapped up in his dad’s arm, being rocked and shushed as circles are rubbed into his back. “You’re okay. Ssshhh, you’re okay. You did such a good job. Good boy. You’re my good boy.” Spider cries until there’s nothing left in him. He lays his limp head down, feeling absolutely dead inside. He’s a monster. A total psycho. How the hell am I going to get away from him. 

I’ll end it there but I totally have more ideas if you’re interested. Thanks again for reaching out! I always love hearing from people 💞

[lecterthewhale]

Week 4 and another episode of Oshi No Ko!!!!

Alright, so at the end of last episode we were all super excited about what Aqua was about to do on the film set, yeah??? Well, I’ve gotta say(at least for me) it was everything I hoped and a complete surprise to me at the same time! Part of me was definitely expecting for him to step in and completely blow everyone away with his acting skills(because despite the fact that he keeps claiming that he’s bad at acting, I just don’t believe it!), and, in a way, he did, just not how I was expecting him to!

Aqua’s obsessive, that’s, like, kind of his number one personality trait. He doesn’t really seem to have any interests or goals aside from getting revenge for Ai/anything to do with Ai and acting(though he doesn’t let himself admit it). That being said, when he enters the scene, when he was practicing for the scene before the camera was rolling, all of that showed the effort and care he put into his acting. He matched up the screen to the manga! Like, that’s next level right there! Also, he literally got himself punched???? Like, dang, dude! Stop claiming not to care about your job if that’s the length that you’re going to go to!

We also get Kana, slowly losing faith in her work in this scene, which was so dang sad!!!! Like, this girl puts so much work into her job and she just cares so incredibly much! Seeing her trying to get Melt-kun to be better and failing and the tremble in her eyes when that happened??? Ooh, it hurt! This girl deserves the best!!!! I’d honestly not be surprised at all if she ends up developing a crush on Aqua(like their conversation on scandals and the “look of a maiden in love” scene seem to imply—at least to me)! Also, if she does end up becoming an idol with Ruby like the end of the show implied then I am so here for it!!!!! More Kana content please and thank you!!!!

Now, Aqua vs the Producer guy—can I just say that the producer gives me the creeps? Like, the way he kept mentioning that Aqua looks like Ai makes me worried that he might have some suspicions about Aqua’s background and, like Aqua and Kana said just a minute or two before that, we don’t want any scandals for these characters! Aqua and Ruby’s very existences are scandals waiting to happen, and I’m sure that it’ll get out eventually, but it would definitely make it even more difficult for Aqua to find their father if it is shared with the public. Oh, and is Aqua gonna be on a dating show????? Part of me is laughing—that boy doesn’t fit the dating show vibes at all!—but, at the same time, Aqua deserves so much better than to go on some dumb dating show just to get that information! Thing is—as I’ve mentioned before—our boy is obsessive and I can absolutely see him going on the show if just for that information.

Moving on from the creepy producer, school’s finally started! Ruby is honestly such a teenager and it’s really sweet—being all nervous about making friends, constantly comparing herself to others, being so excited for it all! Like, Aqua could never! Also, did you all catch Ruby saying that Shiranui(or whatever her name—but we’ll get back to her in a second because she’s giving me some sketchy vibes!) is her number one right now and Aqua—smiling, but still—said that Ai is and always would be his number one? Even though Ruby sort of muttered of course that’s the way it is for her, too, and all this is just another clear indicator of how Ruby is moving on from what happened with Ai while Aqua just isn’t.

It did make me remember the fact that Aqua doesn’t really seem to have any of his own interests, though. Like, yes, there’s acting, but the Director got him started and then Ai asked if he was going to be an actor in her dying moments, so how much of this is really him? Aqua—both as Aqua and as the Doctor—don’t seem to have any interests of their own. Ai was gotten from Sarina, acting was got from Ai, and what else is there? Revenge, which is just the Ai obsession twisted into something darker? Sarina said that this is a man with no dreams, and I’m inclined to believe her. He became a doctor in his first life—something that seems incredibly ambitious on the surface—but as a doctor he was lackadaisical and seemed to have no passion for his work. That’s not really ambition—or at least it doesn’t seem like it. Did he become a doctor then see all the better doctors and retreat just like he did as Aqua with acting? I’m so curious! Also, the fact that Aqua’s good at reading people’s intentions(which was mentioned in this episode as well as the first with how Aqua’s good at knowing what the directors want) makes me wonder if he’s always been good at knowing ad doing whatever it is the people around him want him to do. I really want to know more about his background—in case you haven’t figured that out yet!

Now, back to the story, Shiranui? The famous chick in Ruby’s class? Straight-up, she seems hecka suspicious to me! Like, everything she’s said and done so far seem very surface-level and pre-planned to me. Knowing where Ruby’s friend is from as well as the name of the show Aqua was in? Why on Earth would she know that much detail??? I feel like that morning—when she skipped the entrance ceremony—she was actually studying up on her classmates so that she would be able to seem smart and caring or whatever to make herself look better. I mean, she called Sweet Love good? Sorry, but even though I do think Aqua did a good job on his scene I doubt that this chick sincerely watched the show and thought it was good. That is, unless she’s part of the dating show that Aqua’s gonna be on and that’s why she had a job that kept bringing it up and bothered to watch it! Out of the two options, though, I believe the studied it all for her public persona reason quite a bit more.

Overall, another enjoyable episode! After the first episode I will say that these all feel too short for me, but maybe that’s good because it means that I’m always hungry for the next episode! Next week will probably focus more on Ruby and the idol group they’re creating, but I can’t wait to see how that will all go, too! Maybe we’ll also get more of Aqua in school—which I’m actually a bit interested in. Oh, finally, crack theory: do you all think that Aqua’s gonna end up missing a ton of school for acting jobs and then almost be held back a year in spite of being the top of his class purely because he’s lacking in attendance? I doubt it’s actually going to happen, but gosh, the idea occurred to me while watching this episode and I haven’t been able to stop laughing since!

Anyway, see you all for episode 5 next week!

[joy-of-life88]

Can I love again? [a Roman Reigns story] 15 Past and future

"Okay, Mr. Reigns. Here we are. Make yourself comfortable." I said as I closed the door to my apartment behind us.

Roman looked around and gave me a puzzled look.

"It's a lot smaller than I would have guessed." he said as he kept looking around.

"Well. I don't need much space. I moved here about six months after the accident. At the same time, I changed back to my maiden name. I sold our house because I just couldn't take it anymore. There were just too many memories, you know. I donated most of their stuff. That way, others still got something out of it. And I don't need material things to remember them. There are very few things that I kept," I explained to him as I walked over to my dresser where the framed pictures of them were.

With a sad smile, I looked at the pictures. The one of James and me on our wedding day and the one from the day we brought Eric home from the hospital. And so many more wonderful pictures. There were days when I could not look at these pictures. But by now I realized that it was getting easier and easier. I was very grateful for that, because to be honest I never thought it would get easier.

Roman stepped behind me and wrapped his long arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. I put my hands on his arms and took a deep breath. He had been such a great help in my grieving process without either me or him even realizing it.

"You are such a strong and impressive woman, Y/N. I know you probably don't think so, but it's true." Roman said, giving me a kiss on the temple.

"You're right. I don't think of it that way. But thank you anyway. I appreciate it." I replied laughing, turning my head to the side so I could give him a proper kiss.

We stayed like that for a while. No words were necessary. We just enjoyed the closeness and the silence. On the road it was rare that we had time for ourselves during the day. It was often hectic and noisy. This was a nice change of pace.

"Would you like something to drink or eat?" I asked after a while.

"No, I'm fine. I ate something at the airport." he replied.

The day flew by. It was really nice to have time just for us, away from work and our responsibilities.

Roman had just been on the phone with his mother when I was cutting the vegetables for dinner. Then he suddenly stood next to me and held the phone out to me. I looked at him questioningly.

"Mom would like to talk to you." he said softly.

"Oh... um, okay." I said in surprise, wiping my hands on the dish towel before taking the phone in my hand.

"Hi Pat, how are you?" I asked.

"Hi, sweetheart. I'm doing fine. I was actually going to ask you this though. How are you? I know we just met, but I want you to know that you can come talk to me anytime." she replied quickly. I think she was a little insecure. She was just as sweet as her son.

"Thanks Pat, I really appreciate it. And I'm feeling a lot better. It's getting a little easier every day. Due in no small part to your great son." I explained and then put my hand to his cheek.

Roman looked at me with his big brown eyes and I saw his dimples appear as he smiled proudly at me.

I spoke with his mother for a few minutes until we said goodbye. She wished us a good week before repeating that she could be called at any time.

"Tell me, Romeo... Is it possible that your mother knows that I have a bad relationship with my parents?" I wanted to know.

"I think she sensed that was the case after I told her your parents live far away and that you've been handling everything on your own. She probably wants to take over this task. If that's too pushy for you, I'll tell her to back off," he replied while scratching the back of his neck.

"You take after your mother so much, Ro. You're both very protective. Which I think is very nice, by the way. I love you. And I already like your mother very much. I don't have the best relationship with my mother, so I think it's wonderful to have your mother in my life," I said.

"I love you, too. And I'm sure my mother does, too." he replied, laughing.

I took a step closer to him and put my arms around his neck. Roman looked as if a weight would fall from his shoulders. He was probably worried that his mother was going a little too far. But I found it touching. Probably his whole family was so compassionate. I could tell that family was everything to them and it made me proud that they obviously already counted me as family. And that after only 3 months.

----------------------

"Roman? I'm back!" I called as I came back to my apartment after having something to do in the morning.

"Hey angel. I missed you." he said as he came over to me and kissed me.

"Are you ready to go?" I wanted to know afterwards.

"Yeah sure. Are you going to tell me where you want to go now?" he replied as he took the key from my hand and locked the door for me after we walked out.

I took a deep breath while closing my eyes briefly to collect myself.

"We're going to visit Eric and James," I said as we made our way to the car.

It wasn't long before we arrived at the cemetery and I took Roman by the hand to take him to the eternal resting place of my two men. In my other hand I held a bouquet of peonies. These had been James' favorite flowers.

"Today it has already been three years. Three years... hard to believe. I come here often, but this day is especially important to me. Just like on their birthdays. However, this is the first time that I brought someone with me. Before, I always preferred to be alone. So I could give free rein to my feelings. But now... thanks to you, I've come to the point where I can bear it without breaking down.

Being reminded of their death will always hurt. I will always have scars on my soul because of it. But I think I'm finally ready to accept everything that happened that day. And I owe that mostly to you, Roman. And no matter what else is written in the stars for us... I will be forever grateful to you. Loving you makes it hard to be sad. And I don't want to be sad anymore. I want to have a future with you.

I know we've only been together three months, but it's feels a lot longer to me. In a good way. The best way. I thought you should know that." I explained to him as I put down the bouquet, my eyes fixed firmly on the white marble tombstone. The golden letters glittered lightly in the glow of the sun.

"I am glad that you trust me so much, angel. I promise you that I will always be by your side. Words are not enough to tell you how much I love you and how important you are to me. These three months were just the beginning. And one more thing... I want you forever. It may be too soon right now, but I want you to know that I already have plans for our future," he replied as he took me tightly in his arms.

My gaze broke away from the tombstone and met the most loving gaze imaginable. With every fiber of my being I knew that this man was sent to me by my angels to help me get over my past.

[fffffaaaaq]

OC in RWBY (5/10)

VOLUME 4 

(edgy, boots, cropped turtle neck, arm sleeves, forearm bands, burn scars, ragged, maki jjk, shoot in a random direction and land somewhere, cigarettes and coffee)  

Turns out there was an ulterior motive for Hazel staying at Ruby’s home in Patch. It was so Qrow could keep an eye on Hazel since she accepted the position of assisting the Fall Maiden 

“Think of me as your commanding officer and you my subordinate.”

So as autumn turned to winter, Qrow had guided Hazel into not rotting. He locked Hazel in a room until she completed a draft of a new weapon, contacted people from Atlas to make it, gave her a few weeks to get used to it, and off they went 

Hazel ended up creating a reinvention of Pyrrha’s weapon of a rifle/spear. She couldn’t tell if it was an accident or not, but in the past few months grieving over Pyrrha was Hazel’s main concern. 

From Hazel’s time of training with Pyrrha, the spear was very intuitive, so was the rifle. Hazel did keep her dust bullets and wire to her new weapon. Which she ended up naming after Pyrrha; Niko

While stalking RNJR with Qrow, Hazel’s habit of smoking came back as Qrow drank around her. He’d always swipe the smokes away, but Hazel always somehow got them back.

To be honest, Hazel hardly looked out of place with the bars Qrow goes to. Burn scars around her neck and arms made her look just as rugged as Qrow. 

Bartenders always ended up flirting with Qrow which she always got grossed out by. Hazel started a fresh pack when Qrow went to go talk to Raven. She had also joined in a game of darts and ran her opponents dry

Qrow tries not to let Hazel play darts too often because of her skill

Catching Ruby after Tyrian gave her a hard kick to the gut was not the way Hazel expected in meeting with team RNJR but it was and Hazel could appreciate how cool she felt 

“Are you okay red?”

“Hazel?”

“Everything’s gonna be fine”

Traveling with Qrow also gave her an uncanny ability to be in sync with him. So as Hazel caught Ruby, Qrow had blocked Tyrian’s stinger. Qrow had ordered team RNJRs escape and expected Hazel to be his battle partner which is exactly what happened 

While Qrow saved Ruby from falling debris and whatnot Hazel got poisoned from Tyrian’s stinger. Not a fun experience since it was a deep gash rather than a graze 

Qrow told RNJR of the maidens that night. Jaune was upset about how Ozpin’s inner circle forced the fall maiden's power onto Pyrrha. Hazel countered his argument of how Pyrrha willingly went along with it 

Jaune increasingly became more upset as Hazel went along with Qrow’s plan without any question 

“What else is there to do Jaune. We don’t have any plans but they do.”

The following morning the poison had taken over Hazel’s body; panicking Ruby as it resulted in Hazel being carried by Jaune. Ruby had a small voice fearing for Hazel

“You’re going to be okay Hazel.”

“Of Course I am.” Hazel didn’t believe herself because she felt a lot worse speaking. Hazel actually unresponsive after she said this panicking Ruby even further

They were lucky to be rescued by airship, Hazel looked a few hours away from actually dying 

Hazel really was a few moments from dying. The medics had informed Ruby that had they shown up just an hour later it would’ve been likely that Hazel wouldn’t make it. It took Hazel awhile to even recover. During Hazel’s recovery period Ruby had checked in the most frequently 

Hazel tried cheering up Ruby brandishing a new scar upon her already torn body but seeing all of Hazel’s scars made Ruby sad.

 The burn scars that layered on top of claw scars that reached her upper arms, the burns around her neck that her aura couldn’t completely heal, and now a scar across her rib cage from Tyrian’s tail. 

Ruby was overwhelmed with everything that happened and the scars on Hazel was a physical reminder of how much harm has happened

Hazel tried cheering up Ruby but she ended up just holding her for a few minutes until she was able to calm down

“It’s okay Red, we can just lay here and watch your favorite cat videos.”

Ruby and Hazel briefly debriefed everything going on themselves. About beacon, about Tyrian, how Ruby thought Hazel was going to die. Hazel told Ruby that she could never leave her side. But saying that gave Hazel a pained expression 

She told Ruby about the night Pyrrha died; how she kissed her before the battle and how confident Hazel was that there was going to be them after. Ruby was the only one who knew about her and Pyrrha being intimate. 

“And you were by her side like you promised. We promise that we will always be yours.”

VOLUME 5 

Meeting with Lionhart wasn’t pleasant, but leaving Qrow to drink by himself would be even more displeasing so as Qrow ordered RNJR back to the house Hazel joined Qrow at the bar. Ruby wasn’t happy with either decision 

Oscar looked scared of both Hazel and Qrow. Hazel couldn’t really blame the kid; the pair looked really hardened by life. Qrow slamming away drinks and Hazel smoking a pack, a thirteen year old coming up to them isn’t appealing 

Hazel ended up carrying Qrow back to the house as she made small talk with Oscar 

While searching for more huntsmen with Qrow; Weiss and Yang made a surprise entrance. Hazel was so shocked that she dropped her pack of cigarettes and forgot about them greeting both the blonde and heiress. 

“You guys look good! Well except you Weiss, you look like shit right now” Hazel flicked above Weiss’s eyebrow where her scar lies 

Weiss hugged Hazel tighter after that comment.

Going into the house Weiss noticed Hazel’s burned scars peeking from underneath her sleeve. She gently traced it with her finger tips. 

“We’re the rugged ones now.” Hazel jokes

As Weiss and Hazel watch Yang and Ruby reunite, Hazel notices Weiss tearing up. She slung her arm over Weiss and stumbled her towards Ruby and Yang for a reunion hug. 

Catching up with her fellow Beacon students was a fun experience. Hazel couldn’t stop making fun of Weiss and was surprised when the girl hardly retaliated back

“Well I thought I was pretty great at school!” Nora exclaimed

Hazel spat out her tea reminding Nora of her exams as Yang further embarrassed her 

As Ozpin debriefed the students about their end goal. It was agreed that they will follow Ruby towards her goals 

The following morning Hazel was surprised to see her teammates up so early. She ended up helping Weiss with coffee as Yang checked on Ruby. 

In the weird hours of the morning Hazel ended up giving Yang and Weiss another hug without saying much. Yang was angry with Blake missing so Weiss had checked on her. 

Finding Raven at Haven was not expected of anyone. Hazel fired a bullet at Raven and instantly was met with an insult despite Hazel knowing she definitely clipped Raven

Seeing Cinder again was even more unexpected. She insulted Jaune, reminded Hazel of her desperation and then insulted Pyrrha. That flipped a switch in both Jaune and Hazel as they charged at her. Emerald tried stopping Hazel, but got distracted by Ruby

In Jaune and Hazel’s fight against Cinder it was clear that Cinder paid more attention in fighting Hazel rather than Jaune. Training with Qrow made Hazel a sharper fighter than Jaune 

“Jaune backup Weiss!”

“You really think you can face me on your own?”

Hazel ignored her, “Jaune! just listen to me!”

Why do men have to be men? Jaune didn’t listen to Hazel. While Hazel was holding her own against Cinder, Hazel had gotten a clean cut on Cinder’s face which triggered the maiden. When Hazel says clean cut; she slashed against the maidens whole face. Cinder had attacked Hazel using her grimm arm, tossing her aside, bullied Jaune and then sent a spear through Weiss. 

Seeing Hazel lie in a pool of her own blood was one of the most terrifying moments. Jaune was able to stabilize Hazel with his aura amp. Once she stopped bleeding, Hazel had Jaune help Weiss 

Thankfully Jaune listened because Weiss performed better than Hazel would’ve 

Reuniting with Blake was pleasant. As Ruby fell to the ground Hazel put her shoulder under gently putting the girl to the ground. Ruby leaned into Hazel, but Hazel ended up leaning on Weiss who leaned into Yang. 

[batz-surveys]

1.

[Starting this up again, not that anyone really reads 'em. Third time's a charm, hah.]

Do you go to church? I don't. Sometimes I think about joining my mom on Sundays when she goes, but only because I know that would make her happy.

Have you ever had an ulcer? No.

What was the last book you read? The last book I read was Heart Bones by Colleen Hoover.

What was the last book you read about, and was it good? Basically a girl's mother dies and she reconnects with her dad, goes to stay with him, falls for a con-artist with a good heart, and that's about it. It was okay, not my usual type of book but I was trying to branch out from the usual horror/thrillers I read.

What site do you use to discover new music? I just use Amazon music to listen to the same artists I've always listened to.

What’s your current favorite song? "Depression Personified" by The Used.

Do you make smoothies? No, I don't really like them.

Do you use holiday-themed window clings? No.

How many pairs of jeggings do you own? None, but I have about fifteen pairs of leggings.

How often do you wash your windows? Yikes, not often enough. Yeah, let's go with that.

Do you own slipper socks? I'm pretty sure I do.

Are you a sushi lover? I am, even though I have to eat vegetarian rolls. If I ever decided to consume flesh again, the first thing I'm doing is going for sushi.

Do you have any rare medical conditions? No, not rare.

Do you have to carry an epi pen? No, but I probably should. I have a few allergies to certain foods.

What is your mother’s maiden name? It's a cool one, but I won't be stating that name here.

The first time you remember being hospitalized, what was it for? I was nine and basically a day away from dying from pneumonia.

Were you ever in the hospital as a kid? Being hospitalized for pneumonia was the only time I was in the hospital for an extended period of time as a kid. I did go to the Emergency Room a lot for breathing treatments though. I had terrible asthma growing up. I obviously still have it, because it doesn't just disappear, but it's definitely way more manageable now.

Do you know what your dreams are? Honestly, I have a lot of dreams and some are attainable if I just work for them. Others are like, winning the lottery kind of dreams, haha.

Do you know what your purpose in life is? I don't. I'm just here living day to day, enjoying small victories when I can, and keeping up with a simplistic life.

What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I don't know, fruits you like, some kind of liquid you like, and that's it, right?

When was the last time you got a new backpack? My Mother-In-Law got me a Lilo and Stitch mini backpack for my birthday this year.

What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one.

Do you have a bike with a basket on the front? ^

Do you like to add different spices to things? Yes, it's called seasoning your food.

Are you cold or hot more often? Hot when I'm outside my apartment. Cold, but comfortable when I'm inside my apartment because I keep the a/c on 74F-76F.

What is your favorite website? I guess Google, because I use it a lot.

If you had two kids, a boy and a girl, what would you name them? I can't have kids and I don't want them, but my husband and I have definitely come up with hypothetical children names. For a boy, his name would be Maximus Wolfgang [Last Name] and for a girl it would be Marjorie or Serenity Grace [Last Name].

When was the last time you read the Bible? I might have thumbed through this small devotional bible my mom gave us before we moved, ya know, as I was packing it away.

Have you ever read the Bible all the way through? No.

Do you own a lot of scarves? I think I might own like two. I never wear them because it never gets cold enough here.

Do you ever shop at the dollar store? Hardly ever now that the closest one to us closed down.

Would you rather shop online or shop at the mall? Online. Our closest mall is so fucking sad. There's like maybe six stores still open, not including the Target that's attached.

Do you like Barnes and Noble? Sure, it's my go-to store when I'm out of ideas for Xmas presents.

Do you like antique stores? I don't go to them.

Would you collect antiques if you were rich? Maybe, just so I could have something to leave my family members that was worth something. But then, I could also just give them the money.

Do you like castles? Sure.

What’s your favorite exotic animal? Tree kangaroos! Nobody I've ever known knows about them! They're so freaking cute. Go, right now, and Google a picture of them.

Do you like Goodwill? I used to when I thrifted. I don't really do that anymore.

Do you own a tassel necklace? No.

What does your favorite necklace look like? It's a pearl necklace.

Do you have any jewelry that you wear every day? Not really, because I don't even wear my wedding and engagement rings everyday. Unless my piercing jewelry counts.

Do you like to wear skirts? Nah, I can't style them the right way. So I just wear dresses.

What does your favorite bookmark look like? I don't think I have any bookmarks.

Do you use seasonal mugs? I mean, yes, but I don't wait to use them until a certain time of year. I use all my mugs anytime.

What color is your mailbox? Grey.

What color is your microwave? Black.

How often do you cook? At least three times a week.

Do you like being an adult or being a kid better? I'd say being an adult. The only thing I don't like about it is the fact I have to work, haha. But I mostly like my job and I have adult freedom and adult money, so it's all good. When you're a kid, you're totally dependent on someone to care for you, and those same caregivers give you a bunch of rules and shit to follow.

Do you want to start a new hobby? Starting this up again is my new hobby. But for how long…? Haha.

[ha1taniwh0re]

Learn to respect your madam

Fandom: Moriarty the Patriot

Character: Sherlock Holmes

Third person pov

You are the noble lady who is with non noble man in relationship. Your parents are dead and you got family business. Your boyfriend Sherlock Holmes is the famous detective who for some reason didn’t work for Jard. You asked your boyfriend to go with you on Noatick, you didn’t want to be alone there so he said yes. He doesn’t like when you spoil him sometimes, now you “spoiled” him. You just booked a luxury room for you two.

“You didn’t have to book this room for us” he said a little bit annoyed.

“You will not pay me back. I know you hate this room just bc you cant pay me half of the amount of the room. I don’t need money baby so don’t worry” you said and kissed your lover.

“Tonight I have a dinner with Lords Roberts, and I would love for you to come with me”.

Sherlock just noded.

/dinner/

“My love after this dinner we will go walking around the Notaick”, you said and Roberts brothers were confused.

Why tho you make decisions

“Sure, love”

As 5 of you were sitting and chatting, you saw that your boyfriend wasn’t happy that he was here. You will pay him back for this sacrifice.

“Im sorry my gentlemans i need to excuse myself. I will be right back”, you said and went to bathroom.

/Sherlock pov/

As my girlfriend left somewhere, i heard what this mans were talking about.

“You know, I've always thought it best when I've had the choice, that a woman should be silent and have no voice”, one said

“When a maiden with a mind meets a man with power, she must know her place or it all goes sour”, other said

“As men of wealth”, first

“Influence”, second

“Prestige”, and the third one let his voice

“Are we not all fine specimens?”, second asked

“Indeed”, all of them said

“They think that love is blind and it can't be bought”, third said.

“Yes, but that's a lesson, and it can be taught”, first told his brother.

“Yeah, listen to the man and ignore the wife, that's the only way for a happy life”, second one

“The choice is simple: choose me and thrive”, first said

“Or have it your way and be burned alive”, third one said

And after that everybody started laughing. THIS MANS. They don’t know how to treat women.

“Neee Sherlock, you need to learn this things, you cant let Lady (last name) to tell you what to do”, first Robert said and i just snapped.

“YOU NEED TO LEARN TI RESPECT WOMENS. SHE CAN HAVE A VOICE AND SHE CAN MAKE DECISIONS TOO.”

They looked at me in shock as i was ready ti attack wirh another lecture i felt gentle little hands tapping my back.

“De, de Sherly. Don’t be so mad, everybody has there thoughts”, my beautiful girlfriend told me and took my hand.

“Im sorry gentlemens but we will take our leave now.”

She said and we left them with shock faces. As we were walking around Noatick, we were silent.

“Im sorry my love for making a scene there”, i said with sad look.

I was sorry for that, maybe this will make her problems i know this noble worlds and there reputation can go down really easy.

“Don’t be sweetheart. You did good thing”.

As i heard this beautiful voice she had i was in 7th sky.

“You have a beautiful voice baby”, i said and kissed her.

“Hahaha thank you my love”.

We kissed and spent this beautiful night together.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.

{Wounded Love}

This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.

But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.

“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”

Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.

“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”

Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.

------------------------

Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.

“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.

Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…

------------------------

The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.

“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.

“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.

“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.

“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.

“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.

“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.

“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.

“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”

“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”

Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.

“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).

“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”

“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.

“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.

The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.

“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.

Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.

With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.

Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.

“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.

“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.

As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.

If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.

“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”

In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.

The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.

“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”

Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.

Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…

------------------------

“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”

“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.

“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.

“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”

A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.

“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.

“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.

“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…

------------------------

BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.

Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.

Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.

And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.

“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.

Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.

“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.

“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.

“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.

------------------------

GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.

“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.

“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”

“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”

Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.

“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.

“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”

“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.

So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.

“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”

“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”

[highlifeboat]

A concept: Bela overhears her sisters talking to her mother about how clingy she is.

Cassandra and Daniela really don’t mean it personally, but their words sound so harsh in Bela’s sensitive ears. Her sisters are just discussing the things they’ve seen with Bela’s neediness, expressing that it’s concerning, and when Alcina reluctantly agrees that, yes, it can be a bit much at times, Bela shatters. Her sisters were one thing, but her mother...

Realizing she had to do something, Bela starts to pull herself away. She doesn’t eat or sleep; she only showers or bathes in frigid water, leaving her skin sore, ashy, and riddled with blisters; she barely leaves her room; and worst of all: she starts talking back to Alcina.

That last thing is what REALLY concerns everyone. And Bela hates doing it, but she feels the need to distance herself from her mother, and this is the only way. It’s better for everyone if she loosened her ties with them.

Eventually, Bela’s attitude gets so bad that Alcina finally snaps at her, and it hurts Bela more than she was expecting. She had been trying to prepare herself for the pain, but it still came to her like a knife in her stomach.

(Hurt no comfort)

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. It wasn’t something she would normally do. After all, she’d never want her sisters to listen in on one of her private conversations, especially with their mother, and in truth she hadn’t planned to stick around. But when she heard her name mentioned it seemed to make her pause. They were talking about her. Why? What had she done? Was she in trouble? Bela’s mind raced with possibilities, and pressed her ear against the door so she could hear a little better.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Cassandra’s voice asked. “How… clingy she is?” Bela swallowed. Clingy? She wasn’t clingy. Well, maybe she could be. A little. “How she always wants to be around you? How much she seems to care what you think about her?”

“Yeah, and the lengths she goes just for a pat on the head.” Daniela’s voice agreed. “I’ve seen her go days without sleep trying to impress you with something. It’s not normal.” Not normal? Bela shifted. “And she’s been like this forever! It’s really weird.”

“And a little creepy.” Cassandra added. “Like, I know we were all attention seekers at first but even you have to think this is out of control, right? We aren’t crazy for thinking that.”

Bela heard her mother sigh, her teeth starting to grind together. “Bela can be… overbearing at times, yes….” The blonde sunk her claws into the door as her heart seemed to stop. “And it is a little odd.” Odd? “If I knew how to help her I would.” Help? Mama thinks you need help? That you’re odd? Overbearing? Not normal?

Bela felt tears in her eyes and rushed as quietly as she could away from the door and the conversation on the other side. Her sisters were one thing. Their complaints still tugged at her heart, of course, but they had been teasing her for years. But her mother? Her own mother thought she was overbearing? She didn’t understand, she thought she was doing everything right. Did Mother not like when she went the extra mile for her? Did she not like that she followed everything she said? Bela pulled her hair. No, she had to do something. She would gain her mother’s love back, and show her sisters she wasn’t “clingy”. She could change. Or, at the very least, try to.

That was probably where the downward spiral started.

She started off small. Putting no more into her work than necessary, and slowly lessening the time she spent around her mother and sisters. At first they had seemed a little impressed with her new found ability to say “no” to them, even if it was eating away at her internally. But her sisters were happy with her, and even their mother seemed content with her new attitude. That was all she wanted. But it was keeping her up at night.

When she sat alone in her room, the wind howling outside her window, it felt like torture. Her mind raced, some parts telling her how useless she was becoming, and others reminding her this was for the best. It was nothing but a constant whirlwind of conflicting ideals that rang in her ears no matter how hard she tried to make them stop. She’d even started losing her appetite, the stress of it all twisting her stomach into a terrible knot that refused to keep food anymore. She did eat in front of her family when they were gathered at the dinner table, if just to act like everything was fine, but she always purged it afterwards as if her body was rejecting it. Every part of her body was blistered, and ashen, and terribly raw from freezing showers, even the usually soft fabric of her dress was beginning to feel like sandpaper. Headaches came often, and felt like they lasted for days, and in private she would writhe and cry on her bed from the bouts of pain that were plaguing her being. It was becoming unbearable. But her sisters were happy, and her mother was happy. And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

Or, they had seemed happy up until Bela started back talking to her mother.

She didn’t know if it was the constant pain, the hunger, or the fact she always felt on edge, but her mother’s voice was starting to grate on her ears. It had gone from simply saying “No” to certain requests, to sarcastic comments she’d picked up from Cassandra, to down right snapping back at her mother for making comments to her. And it was killing her more than any of the pain she put on herself. The way her mother looked at her. The sadness that turned to concern. It twisted her heart with guilt. But this is what they wanted right? No more clinging to mommy? Bela wanted nothing more than to apologize and hug her mother, but she kept holding herself back. You don’t want to be overbearing. Mother wouldn’t like that. Walk away. Walk away. There didn’t seem to be any way for her to win this internal battle with herself.

And then they had a fight.

She couldn’t remember what had started it. If her mother had simply asked her something, or if she’d made another comment on her recent behaviour, or if she had just looked at her the wrong way. All she knew was that she’d stood from her seat and sparked the argument. She told her mother to stop trying to pry into her life. That she didn’t want her help. That she just wanted to be left alone. That they were all stressing her out. That she hated her sisters. That she hated her.

Bela said she hated her mother. To her face.

Her sisters froze, having come to see what the yelling was about, and the look on their mother’s face made Bela want to dissolve into the floor.

“I-I didn’t-” She jumped when her mother interrupted her.

“That is enough!” She snapped, and Bela’s entire body went rigid. “Young lady, I don’t know what has gotten into you these past weeks, but the way you have been acting is completely unacceptable! I have had enough of your attitude, and I will not be spoken to in such a manner by my own child!” She raised her hand to make a gesture, and Bela thought she was going to be struck. And you would deserve it, wouldn’t you? “I would expect this from Cassandra, maybe even Daniela, but not you!” She crossed her arms. “I’m very disappointed in you, Bela!”

The words cut into her so much worse than she thought they would. Bela had prepared herself for this, knowing her mother wouldn’t put up with her act forever, but to have it actually happen made it feel like her guts were getting ripped out. To be called a disappointment, it took the air from her lungs and strangled her with it. She couldn’t breathe properly, her heart was pounding in her ears. She hates you. Doesn’t want you here. She hates you! HATES YOU! HATE HATE HATE! Bela’s vision started to blur with tears, and, at a loss for what to do, she did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

"BELA!"

Her mother called for her to come back, but she only ran faster. Through the castle halls, down the stairs, past a group of surprised and frightened maidens, and finally out of the castle’s main entrance and into the cool night air. It burned her skin, but she just kept going, out past the Duke’s cart and into the Vineyard, until her foot caught on loose rock and she fell face first into the hard ground. After that she couldn’t push herself up. Too sore, too tired, too hungry, too cold. So she did the only thing left she could do. She cried.

She cried, and screamed, and pulled at her hair. She curled in on herself, claws sunk into her scalp as if she were trying to rip out her brain. Her mother hated her. Her sisters probably hated her, too. She hated herself. Everything hurt. She just wanted it to stop.

She wanted her mother.

“MAMAA!” The wail tore from her throat before she had a chance to stop it. She certainly had the audacity, didn’t she? Mother wouldn’t rescue her. Not after that horrid display. “Mama….” It felt like her skull was splitting open. She didn’t deserve to see mother. To be held in her arms and cradled. Not after the way she’d acted. “I’m s-sorry….” It was far too late for apologies wasn’t it? Bela choked on her tears as her vision blurred and distorted. She felt terribly light headed. “M-M-Mommy, please… Please help me….”

[my-mt-heart]

TWD 11x11 “Rogue Element” Review

And the TV gods said…let there be no ship baiting in episode 11 and there was no ship baiting. A small miracle. A sad one too. I guess I’m willing to settle for episodes without the ship I do care about now as long as I don’t have to deal with the mass hysteria. Not that this episode doesn’t deliver some great character moments. We finally get some movement on Eugene’s story which has been dragging out since last season, Connie and Kelly win the award for best sibling dynamic, and Carol gets to suss out the puppet master of the Commonwealth, so that’s all fine and well. I have to ask though, what the HELL is going on with this show tonally? It’s almost like it’s having an identity crisis because I swear, and I understand it’s intentional, there are moments where I feel like I’m watching a crime drama. Just not the good kind. I’m talking really campy shit. Course correct, Angela. I beg you. Whatever you do, don’t let Daryl and Carol go canon in a cheesy way that doesn’t speak to who they are or what the show is supposed to be. But, I digress…

Though it’s Inspector Eugene’s story that contributes the most to the absurdity, my heart still breaks for him. We start off seeing him with everything he wants, namely the Iron Maiden, ice cream loving girl of his dreams. They’re much more established than they were the last time we saw them together, as in sharing a bed and saying ‘I love you’ to each other. Why wait when, as he tells Princess later, “right now is all we’ve got?” It sounds like Eugene needs to impart some wisdom on Daryl and Carol, am I right? 

But in true TWD fashion, his moment of bliss gets ripped away. We the audience see Stephanie packing a bag, though as far as Eugene knows, she’s completely vanished and down the rabbit hole he goes, trying to get to the bottom of what he believes must be a government conspiracy. Personally, I wish we got to see more of Rosita helping her best friend through his crisis, but as always, Princess makes for some good company (her pretending to have lasagna just to get through Eugene’s front door is pretty funny). She’s basically the Watson to his Holmes, listening to him rattle off all the clues he’s gathered and helping him sneak into the suspicious plumber’s apartment, only to get ratted out by an elderly neighbor and end up in jail. Until Lance Hornsby comes along to explain the “misunderstanding,” that is. 

At the end of it all, Princess admits to Eugene that she thinks Stephanie just broke up with him, but Eugene’s still not ready to give up and that’s when the heartbreak happens. Doing some more snooping, he finds out Stephanie is basically just an undercover agent Lance Hornby assigned to get Eugene to spill everything about his communities. We’ll talk about Lance in a bit, but let’s focus on Eugene for a second. He is literally trembling with emotion after everything finally lands on him. Props to Josh McDermitt for conveying Eugene’s pain in such a compelling way. For fuck’s sake, the man shared his innermost thoughts and I’m assuming lost his virginity (??) to a catfish. Ouch. On the bright side, we finally get the big reveal that I think most of us already suspected, which is that Margot Bingham’s character, referred to by Pamela Milton as Max, is the real Stephanie. So there’s still hope for Inspector Eugene.   

Connie and Kelly are also doing some investigating this episode in a way that feels a little more grounded, though still out of place (I’ve resigned to the fact that the Commonwealth arc is always going to feel jarring to me no matter what). While Connie represents the one ready to do whatever it takes to uncover the truth about Trooper Davis, Kelly is the one who’s there to reel her back in when it’s necessary, reminding her they’re only at the Commonwealth to get away from all the fighting for a while. They compliment each other really well and I can really feel how deeply connected they are, unlike a lot of the other siblings that have been on this show.  

I know Connie is a controversial character in the caryl fandom for *ahem* reasons and while I will grant that she is super underdeveloped, I do like her. I like seeing her stand on her own two feet without using bigger characters as a crutch. Someone else talked about Connie’s lack of agency on the whole Donnie front, and I completely agree that’s problematic. But at the same time, it is interesting that in an episode where we are in Connie’s perspective, where she does have agency, Daryl still does not come up once in conversation. This is immediately following an episode where we are led/mislead to believe Daryl might be smitten with her, mind you. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because when we’re with Connie and Kelly, we’re actually seeing things objectively. As far as they’re concerned, there are no deeper feelings to explore. There may have been a silent question between them in the beginning of season 10, but I maintain the purpose of that was to alert the audience to the possibility of something more before the true nature of the relationship was very subtly explained in 10x05. Now, however, the romance is only visible through a specific lens – Carol’s – which Daryl may possibly try but fail to put on. Further elaboration on that can be found here where I lay out Daryl’s potential arc for the remainder of the block. 

What I also find interesting, though it may or may not be intentional, is having Connie’s and Carol’s storylines run parallel to each other. In New Haunts, it’s heavily implied that Carol puts Connie on a pedestal. She thinks that her accomplishments in the old world make her more admirable, and therefore more worthy of Daryl’s love. But going along with Rogue Element’s theme of transparency or unveiling the truth, we can easily see they are equals. It doesn’t matter that Connie is working inside the system or that Carol remains on the outside. They are both intelligent, crafty, and determined enough to make equally important discoveries. For Connie, that entails planting a seed of doubt in the mind of one the Commonwealth’s biggest players, Mercer, and in doing so, acquiring a list of names I’m guessing are “undesirables.” For Carol, it means tapping into her past trauma to get the women at the poppy farm to open about the abuse they experienced, thus helping Lance, a bigger player in the Commonwealth than people probably realize, clean up his operation and giving him a strong reason to trust her. The only difference between Connie and Carol is that Connie is used to gaining recognition (in the form of her name in print) whereas Carol often has to be the unsung hero. 

This is something she has in common with Lance. While on an excursion together, Lance tells her he does better outside the walls than inside and Carol responds that a lot of her people think the same. No doubt, Daryl is someone who comes to mind. Not to go on a tangent, but this scene reminds me so much of when Aaron took Daryl under his wing while he struggled to get adjusted to Alexandria. To me, it just goes to show that once again, Daryl and Carol are on opposite trajectories. This time it’s Daryl who’s putting on a mask and Carol, I presume, is finally tired of doing so. I think by the end of this block or beginning of 11C at the latest, they will finally start to get on the same page emotionally, which has been preventing them from being together. 

Anyways. Back to Lance. He may seem to be taking Carol under his wing, but as Angela Kang notes, their relationship is transactional. Carol knows she can use him to get something she wants. It’s unclear now, but I think it’s possible Lance might try to exploit her too, especially considering how low he stooped to get information from Eugene. He’s a cunning motherfucker for sure, however I think it’s safe to say that if their relationship does eventually lead down a dangerous path, Carol will come out on top in the end and maybe she’ll finally get her recognition (from Daryl). 

The ultimate takeaway here is that the Commonwealth isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and people aren’t who they may appear to be. Stephanie isn’t Stephanie, Lance isn’t all for one, Mercer isn’t the Commonwealth’s poster boy or at least he won’t be going forward.  

Before I wrap this up, I wanted to quickly address the lack of screeners/spoilers this week. I know a lot of people reached out to me on the matter, and again staying with the theme of the episode, the truth is I deleted every single one of those messages. Why, MT? Why would you ignore us in our time of crisis? Because my lovely friends, I am trying to be more responsible about spreading needless panic. Let this episode stand as proof that not everything is about shipping. Let’s not treat everything like a catastrophe, okay? This is probably a good time to remind you all that articles about episode 10 are going to come out very shortly and they’re probably going to play up the Donnie/Carzekiel beats. Please, do not let yourselves get worked up about it. Deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay. Only five more episodes (of hell) to go and since my prayers were heard this time around, I ask that the TV gods now send us some meaningful Caryl scenes. Please and thank you. Amen. 

11x09 “No Other Way” Review

11x10 “New Haunts” Review 

[teeninpanic]

Five Brothers (1)

requested from @profoundtyrantharmony I really liked the idea so as soon as I saw the comment I knew I have to write it down, and I think I will make it into a multi chapter because as soon as I started to write, I got bunch of ideas (also don’t wanna rush things).

summary: Ragnar, Aslaug, Lagertha, Floki and the Ragnarsons gets teleported into the 21th century at y/n’s backyard

I’m sorry if you find grammar problems, I try my best, but english is not my main language. Hope you will like it.

The weather was dark and cloudy all day It made most of the people sad and grumpy. Today was your day off so you thought that laying in bad, binging a new show and putting on masks will be the best thing that you can do. As you did these things the weather just went more crazier. It started to rain really quickly and some loud lightning’s arrived as well. A big storm came. You never was scared of flash but this time, they were much louder and it made you jump a few times. You took off your mask and the weirdness didn’t go away It just grew thicker. Now everything smelled like salty sea. You went down to your living room and stared outside to your backyard. The rain just kept coming down and another thunder that ended up in your backyard made you jump. It was so close. You never saw a thunder this close. It almost made you go blind. And then you started seeing things.People to be exact at your backyard. You thought you are hallucinating because you didn’t get enough sleep this week but it all looked real. You counted the people at your yard. 9.

They all looked confused and extremely old. Not in age, but in they appearance. Maybe at this point you thought maybe you fell asleep watching Lucifer and now you are dreaming . You really got curious and you really believed that you were dreaming so without thinking you step outside. The nine people, two women and 7 men all stared at you. One of the man with blonde hair and a beard started to walk closer to you.

“You must tell us where the gods took us!” He yelled and you got scared a bit. They all were so much scarier closer. You had just a gut feeling that they all did something wrong in their life and as wrong you meant crime.

“the gods?” you ask back. “Who are you?” you are confused.

“I am Bjorn Ironside!” He kept yelling. “And this is my father. You must know him. He is Ragnar Lothbrok!” His father smiled with his calm face at you but you didn’t know him. Why would you know that old man anyway?

“I don’t know him. I’m sorry” everyone got surprised.

“How is that possible? Everyone knows him!” Another old man asked from Bjorn

“You are must be lying. You must know my mother Lagertha! the brave shield-maiden.” I wish he would stop yelling my neighbors are must be so annoyed.

“I’m sorry but no, and I am not lying.” the rain started to cool down.

“Where are we?” a younger one asked who looked simillar to Bjorn. He had a weird eye as well. It almost looked like a snakes eye.

“At my backyard? In (your city’s name).” they looked confused.

“Why did the gods send us here?” One of them got thinking.

“Let me introduce myself” a woman stepped to me with such a beautiful shaped eyes. “ I am Aslaug. Ragnar Lothbrok is my children father, Sigurd, Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar” She introduced them and I took good looks of them. Each of the brothers were different. “Floki is a great friend of the family, and Lagertha is Ragnar’s… first wife. And Bjorn is their child.” Thanks to her now I at least knew their names.

“We do not know, where we are so perhaps you could help us?” she asks and puts her arm to my shoulder. By her touch you knew you wasn’t dreaming and a panic grew in your stomach.

They were at your backyard by a lightning. They look weird and talk weird. And you are not dreaming. What is happening? How did they come here? By teleporting? That’s insane. It cannot be true. They said the gods took them but that is impossible. And yet the panic and yet the fear you invite them inside. They all look so surprise. At the window door, and the wall sized windows, the lights, the walls, your decors. Everything is so weird to them. You guys all have at least something in common. Weirdness and being afraid. Floki gets his hands on everything like he tries to figure out what each of the things are made of. Lagertha is deep in her mind. She looks like she regretted something. Ragnar in the first second doesn’t know where to look then watches Floki touching stuff. Aslaug is worried and it shows. She is so afraid she is shivering. The brothers are a bit more weird. Bjorn looks proud, like everything is in his hands. Like he rules the world and could get anything that he just wants. Sigurd is more shy. And not just his eye he actually looks like a snake. It’s like he is hiding something. Protecting it like it is his eggs. Ubbe is watching you ALL THE TIME. He cannot take his eyes off of you and Hvitserk looks lost but every time he notices that you look at him he smiles. You don’t know if he tries to get your attention or just protects himself, showing that he is all right. At lest you know Ubbe is for sure interested in you. And then Ivar. You didn’t notice at first, just when you invited them inside that he doesn’t use his legs probably because he can’t. He looks all broken and like he is planning revenge in every little second. When he looked back at you first, something moved inside of you, your heart, your veins, your stomach. All at once. He really was angry and showed no fear in his eyes. He scared you but also somehow got you interested in many ways.

‘So will you help us?’ Lagertha asked.

‘Yeah. I mean I don’t know how.’ you crossed your arms and started thinking ‘this all is just too weird’ you sighed.

‘you don’t say’ Ivar rolled his eyes.

‘Ivar!’ Aslaug turned to him.

‘Mother?’he gave a fake smile to her then his face went back to the grumpy normal one.

‘We can figure things out tomorrow.’ Ubbe said with a yawn. It was really getting late.

‘I agree.’ you said ‘you guys can take the living room.’ you showed them the living room and then pulled the couch out that had a little sound and they jumped. You let out a laugh because it was just so funny how everything is new to them. ‘I’m so sorry’ you said, then you gave them pillows and blankets.

Your living room was small and two of the brothers didn’t fit, (Ubbe and Hvitserk) so they slept at your room, at the floor.

You don’t even know what your doing. One thing is clear, you are doing something very freaking crazy. But they seem lost, you feel sorry for them and you want to help them maybe get to know them.

to be continued…

[pillage-and-lute]

If you're still taking request - your arranged marriage Au made me think of Jaskier as maybe someone cursed and in a tower, maybe everyone thinks the prince in a tower is guarded by a terrible dragon but the prince IS the dragon, and Geralt investigates?

Cute idea, elementalsight!

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“Rescuing a fair maiden, really?” Geralt said.

“The notice had he/him pronouns, so probably not exactly,” Yennefer said, looking at her nails. “And you need the money. Do you want the contract or not?”

Geralt picked it up from the table and smoothed the parchement. 

“There’s really very little information here, they say he’s guarded by a dragon?”

“Mmmhmm,” Yennefer said, brushing at a chip in her nail polish that was probably imaginary.

“There’s no dragons out here, the terrains wrong, we’d know anyway.”

“Mmh, intriguing, right? Bet you wanna take that contract now.” Yen hadn’t looked up from her nails.

“Yen, what do you know?” He lashes cast odd shadows across her face in the torchlight.

“Nothing I’m telling you,” she said. Then she summoned a portal and disappeared with a swish of skirts.

Damn. He really was out of money though.

The tower wasn’t imposing or ominous. It wasn’t made of black stone or crooked, no random lightning storms or smoke, it wasn’t even that tall. 

“Go away,” the voice came from a throat like a blast furnace and Geralt was staring into the slitted eyes of a mid sized (still big enough to eat him, just in more than one bite) dragon.

“Hello,” he said. “What’s a sky dragon doing in a place like this.” It was his special ‘talking to horses or big animals’ voice.

“Not a sky dragon,” the sky dragon grumbled.

“Yes you are, and what’s weird is that you should be up on some chilly cliff, not in a forest.”

“I’m a dragon, not any special kind. The eat you all up and burn your armor kind.” There was a pout in the voice now. 

Geralt scratched one of the snout scales.

“Sure,” he said. The dragon huffed, blue-silver smoke rings curling from the nostrils. No eating occurred.

“I imagine I’m not very good eating,” Geralt said. Most witchers would probably at least give a dragon indigestion. “I also imagine you know something very important about the prince in the tower.”

The dragon, despite having eyes the size of soup bowls, did not meet Geralt’s gaze.

“He’s not even a very important prince, I don’t know why you’re interested.”

“I’d quite like to know why he’s imprisoned in a tower,” Geralt said, although a mental picture was forming. “And why I have a contract to kill both him and the dragon guarding it.”

The dragon pulled back sharply and hissed. A blade thin line of fire, blue and so hot it nearly seared off an eyebrow, missed Geralt by inches.

“Monster hunter,” the dragon said, shifting up on it’s haunches like it was getting ready to pounce. It wasn’t. He could see it in the muscles, they weren’t bunched right. The dragon didn’t want to hurt him, and the eyes just looked sad and kind of resigned.

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, holding up his hands, both currently sword free. “But I don’t want to kill him...or you. Monster hunter, not prince hunter.”

“Dragons are monsters,” the dragon said. 

“Only to stupid people,” Geralt replied. “And sheep,” he added as an afterthought. “I want to meet this prince of yours.”

“NONE MAY ENTER,” the dragon said. “NOW LEAVE BEFORE I BURST YOUR EARDRUMS WITH A ROAR”

“You can’t, that’s only earth dragons, they’re all curled up under a mountain somewhere, and they’re certainly never blue.”

“The dragon looked nonplussed. “I’LL SPIT ACID IN YOUR FACE.”

“Swamp dragons,” Geralt said. “Green or yellow and a little smaller.”

“I’LL...”

“You were raised by humans,” Geralt interuppted.

“No?”

“Yes you were, otherwise you’d know more. Did the prince raise you? I won’t harm him you know, I only wan’t to talk.”

“NONE MAY ENTER.”

“Yes, you’ve said, but I won’t take him away. I just want to know why people want him dead.” Here Geralt looked the dragon right in the blue eyes, close enough to se the silver flecks in the iris. “Maybe I can help him, help you both.”

The dragon looked away. “Come back at sunset.”

Geralt did. 

He yelled out for the dragon but it wansn’t there.

“I’m climbing the tower,” he called out. “Don’t flame me, you invited me.” And he clambered up the tower. Coming back down he’d be thankful for the rope he’d brought, because the stones were slick and smooth. He sat on the small windowsill and swung his legs into a room. 

It wasn’t a very nice room. It was definitely a prison. small bed, one candle, uneven table and wobbly stool. A young man was sitting on the floor, cradling a lute.

“Are you the prince?” Geralt asked. He hadn’t seen a picture and although he felt silly making sure, he’d feel sillier if he got it wrong.

“Yes, are you the dragon slayer?”

“Witcher,” Geralt said. “And I did’t slay your dragon.”

“He’s not my dragon, he’s my fearsome jailer, keeping me inside this tower.”

“No,” Geralt said. “I doubt it. Show me your eyes.”

“No,” said the prince, not looking up.

“I’ll bet they’re a very pretty shade of blue,” Geralt said. “With silver.”

Blue and silver eyes met gold.

“You knew,” said the prince, swiping dirty, brown hair from his brow.

“You act odd, for a dragon, prince...” he sought the memory. “Julian.”

“Friends call me Jaskier,” said Jaskier. “Although I don’t have many. Just a little bit of dragon blood in the line, barely more than a drop, really, but I just so happen to get all of it. Anyway, I thought all dragons could look human.”

“They can,” Geralt said. “But they’re raised by other dragons, so they don’t act the same. Why are you inprisoned? And why was I sent to kill you.”

Jaskier sighed. “It’s not good, is it, to have a dragon for a son, even if he is your third son and won’t inherit. Father locked me up and had a mage cast a spell. As a dragon I can roam a little, but I can’t climb down the tower as a human, and I’m only human at night, some mishap with the runes as I understand. True love’s kiss breaks the mage’s spell.”

Geralt scoffed. “That pansy stuff never works.”

“It’s just what I was told,” said the prince, shrugging. “Somehow my father got the idea that true loves kiss will also make me no longer a dragon.”

“Not how that works,” Geralt said.

“No,” Jaskier agreed. “But he keeps sending heroes after me hoping they’ll kiss me.”

“The contract said I was to kill both of you.”

“Yes, well, that would also take care of the problem, wouldn’t it?”

“The problem being you?” Geralt said. 

“The problem, generally speaking, being me.” 

“We’ll break the spell,” Geralt said, although it wouldn’t be that easy.

“And then what? I can’t fight, I’ve no useful skills and nowhere to go. According to you I don’t even make a very good dragon.”

The young man slumped down. “But I’ve been so lonely,” he said. “You know I’ve been here five years? Just me and my lute, I think I’m going mad. You could even be a figment of my imagination.”

“Right,” Geralt said. “Getting you out first, dealing with other problems later.”

“Where am I going to find true love’s kiss?” asked Jaskier. “Do I kiss you?”

“You could try?” Geralt said. He really wouldn’t mind. The prince was whiny and a little dirty but very good looking. “But I was thinking more like, finding the runes and wiping them out.”

“You can just do that?” Jaskier leap to his feet. “They’re right up there,” he pointed among the cieling beams. “I can’t reach them on my own but the two of us...”

Geralt was already lifting the princling onto his shoulders. He didn’t weigh a lot.

“Just a little forward,” Jaskier said, accidentally kneeing Geralt in the chin.

“Hmmm,” he said, to avoid cursing, and shifted forward. 

“Thery’re coming off! The runes are wiping away!”

He was loud but Geralt couldn’t blame him, five years was a long time. Although not compared to a dragon’s lifespan.

“They’re gone, I’m free!” 

Geralt let the boy down from his shoulders and got a surprisingly tight hug and a very pleasant, extremely enthusiastic kiss.

“Just...you know, covering all my bases,” said the blushing prince. He really was cute.

Geralt carried him down the tower. Delighted, Jaskier turned into a dragon, then back to a human, then a smaller dragon, house cat sized, and perched on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Where are we going now? And what’s your name? Will I meet other witchers? Don’t forget to bring my lute?”

It would probably get old very quickly, Geralt thought. But the company was kind of nice, if a little scaly.

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 5

July 30th: “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Read on AO3

This is heavy heavy angst. It’s pretty sad (imo) and also kinda long. So, you know, read at your own risk.

-

With a throbbing in her hip, and a tight pain across her chest, Beca eased herself out of the cab she’d taken, and looked up at the entrance to Barden Nursing Home.

Although she visited several times a week, it seemed like they added more stairs each time she came.

“Can I give you a hand ma’am?”

“Well that depends, Raheem,” Beca said. Her voice wasn’t as strong as it had once been, but anyone who knew her could still detect the bite of sarcasm that filled almost every sentence. “Are you going to call me ma’am again, or are you going to call me Beca?”

Raheem smiled at her from his driver side window.

“Come on Mrs Mitchell, I can’t call you that. What would my grandmother say if she knew I was disrespecting my elders?”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “If you insist.” She held out an arm for him to take, and he left his cab immediately.

Truthfully, she didn’t think she’d make it up on her own anymore.

The doctor had given her a year, give or take, but she knew her own body.

This would be her last visit to Barden Nursing Home.

“Do you want me to wait with the cab?” Raheem asked when they reached the entryway.

“No, no,” Beca said. “The girls are meeting me here, they can drive me home.”

“I’ll see you next week then?”

Probably not. “I’ll give you a call.”

Raheem was Beca’s favourite driver and he happened to be the owner of the cab company, so he always made sure he was the one to drive Beca to her destination.

His mother had been a fan of hers, he’d told her during one of their first journeys, which made her feel older than she was. Or older than she thought she was. It still surprised her when she looked in the mirror and saw an old lady looking back at her.

She didn’t really recognise herself anymore.

Now that her hair was grey, her back slightly hunched, her joints sore and swollen.

They had taken her drivers licence a few years back due to her deteriorating eyesight, and her hearing wasn’t what it was.

And now her lungs were shot. Her liver. Her heart.

Her body was failing her, worsening by the day.

She was in almost constant pain, but she still had her mind. Her mind remained as sharp as it ever was.

For that, she was grateful.

Most of the time, anyway.

Leaning on a cane, with a bunch of flowers in her other hand, she made her way through the reception area.

“Morning Beca,” one of the nurses greeted her warmly. “She’s in her room today, didn’t feel like being social.”

“Thanks hun,” Beca replied. “How is she?”

“One of her better days.”

Good, Beca thought. That’s good.

If today was going to be her last visit, she wanted it to be a good one.

She knocked on door 216, and waited for a response.

“Come in,” came a voice that was both achingly familiar yet totally alien.

“Hi,” Beca said, smiling warmly as she entered the room.

Chloe was sitting in a chair by the window, a blanket over her knees.

Her once red hair was now silver, tied in a neat ponytail. She was still looking outside, but Beca knew her bright blue eyes were now milky and flat. Clouded.

Chloe turned to face her visitor.

“Can I help you?”

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest.

She would never get used to this feeling. She never wanted to get used to this feeling.

She waited for a sign of recognition. A smile or a twinkle, but there was nothing.

Chloe simply looked at her with a patient curiosity.

Well, Beca thought. That’s that, then.

“I was just wondering if you would like some company? I’m new here and I don’t really know anyone.” She placed the flowers in an empty vase of water that she knew the nurses had left there for her, like they did every time she visited.

“Yes, okay. That would be fine,” Chloe said. “I’m Chloe Beale.” She held out her hand for Beca to shake.

Beca shook it, trying not to let the stab of pain show on her face at the sound of Chloe using her maiden name.

“Beca Mitchell,” Beca said, fighting the urge to cover Chloe’s hands with both of her own.

Even after all these years, Beca still wanted nothing more than to pull Chloe into her arms and kiss her.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d really kissed. The last time they’d lain in bed together while Chloe ran her fingers through Beca’s hair. The last time Chloe had been Chloe.

Chloe’s diagnosis and the progression of her illness had been sudden and devastating and brutally quick.

It was so cruel, Beca thought almost every minute of every day, that she still had Chloe so close yet she couldn’t have been further from her.

“I’m afraid you can’t stay too long,” Chloe said. “My daughters are coming to visit later.”

She remembers the girls, Beca thought. That’s good.

Some days Chloe had no recollection of their daughters. Some days, Chloe had no recollection of any of them.

But once in a while, God, it was so rare now, Chloe would remember Beca and who they’d been together.

“Is that so?” Beca asked. “How old are your daughters?”

“Oh, I don’t know, middle-aged-ish. One’s older than the other,” Chloe said, waving a dismissive hand. “Of an age where they think they’re old but they don’t know they’re actually still very young.”

“Hmm, they must be the same age as my kids. What are their names?”

“Well there’s Blake and, um… shoot. I had it. Begins with a B…”

No it doesn’t.

“No it doesn’t,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Hayley.”

Riley.

“Riley!”

Beca smiled. If only I could get you to remember me so easily.

“Do you have grandkids?” Beca asked.

“No,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Yes you do. You have four, and they’re beautiful.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Beca said. “A little too much energy for me to handle these days.”

Chloe seemed to study Beca for a fraction longer.

“You know, you look a lot like my wife. Older, of course, but there’s something about the nose and the smile…”

Beca laughed because if she didn’t she would cry. “Is that right? Well to be honest I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look a lot like my wife.”

“How weird,” Chloe said.

“She was beautiful, just like you,” Beca said, fiddling with the wedding band she still wore.

“Is she still with us?”

Beca looked into Chloe’s eyes, searching for some semblance of the Chloe Beale she had fallen in love with. Searching for a glimmer of recognition. A spark. Anything.

“No,” Beca said. “We lost her a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Chloe said, placing her hand on Beca’s as if that’s where it was meant to be. “How awful for you. You must miss her terribly.”

Beca let out a small laugh and tears filled her eyes.

It was unbearable to mourn someone who was sitting two feet in front of you.

“More than anything. We had,” Beca swallowed hard but her voice still broke when she spoke again, “the best life together. She was my best friend… my everything.”

Chloe squeezed her hand. “How lucky you are to have felt love like that. To have loved so strongly that even after all these years you’re still…” Chloe trailed off and looked out of the window again.

“Did… is your wife still with us?” Beca asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

“My… sorry, what did you say?”

“Is your wife still alive?”

“Oh, I don’t have a wife dear,” Chloe said, smiling. “This ginger is single and ready to mingle as my grandkids would say.”

Again, that knife in her heart.

Her grandkids were back, replacing her wife, and with them a spark of the old Chloe.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here,” Beca said, the sadness taking hold of her now. Settling into her bones in the same way that the damp made her hip throb. “It’s never too late.”

“God, you’re crying, are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Beca said, smiling. “Just thinking about my Chloe has made me go all… well… foolish is probably the best word.”

“Your… Chloe?”

“My wife,” Beca said. “Her name was Chloe.” She swallowed as she looked at the uncomprehending face before her. “She was beautiful. So beautiful. Red hair and bright blue eyes and she was kind, and good, and safe. She was my best my soulmate. And she had a voice like an angel. I’d give…” Beca swallowed again, “I’d give anything to hear her sing again. To hear my Chloe sing again.”

“Beca…”

“Do you know what she said to me the first time we kissed? She promised I would never lose her. We were in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn and she promised I wouldn’t lose her. But that’s the kind of promise only a kid could make. They have no idea, how could they?”

“Beca.”

Chloe’s hand gripped Beca’s and squeezed it. Tight.

“My… Beca?”

And there she was. Back like she’d never gone away.

“Chloe? You… you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” Chloe said. Then her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked around her room. “This isn’t our house.”

“No.”

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “I’m… I’m not well, am I?”

Beca sniffed and shook her head.

“Alzheimer’s?”

“Ah ha,” Beca said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Like my mom… How long?”

“T-two years,” Beca said. “I tried to take care of you but then I fell and broke my hip and I just… I couldn’t manage on my own anymore. The girls insisted. You’ve been here for about a year. You… you seem happy.”

Beca knew this lucidity wouldn’t last.

Chloe would be gone again, and probably soon.

This was her last chance.

“I love you, Chloe Mitchell, do you hear me? My heart belongs completely to you. And one day… one day soon, I’m not gonna be able to come and visit you anymore. And there may be days where you remember me, but you won’t remember I’m gone, and you’re gonna feel hurt and betrayed. You’re going to think I abandoned you,” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand again, “but I promise you, if it was up to me, I would never leave your side.”

“So stay,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. “Stay with me.”

Beca gave her a sad smile. “In a few hours, you won’t remember me, baby.”

“How could I ever forget you?”

“Mom?” A voice spoke up from the doorway, and Beca turned to see Blake and Riley standing there. “Is everything-”

“Girls!” Chloe said, brightly. “Come in and meet my new friend Beca.”

No.

Not yet.

Please, not yet.

“Your new friend Beca?”

Beca forced the smile back onto her face, and she stood up.

“Nice to meet you,” Beca said, looking into the faces of her daughters. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She turned to face Chloe.

“You’re leaving?”

“I should let you have some time with your girls,” Beca said. She took Chloe’s hand in hers, and looked at her wife for what would be the last time. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Chloe.”

“I’ll see you again I hope?”

Beca smiled. “Of course. You’ll remember what I said?”

Chloe tilted her head, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“It’s okay,” Beca said. “I know you heard it. It’ll come back to you when you need it.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, still confused. “Do you think… would it be okay if we hugged? You can ask the girls, I’m a hugger.”

She heard a small sniff and she saw Riley quickly leave the room.

“Allergies,” Blake said, quickly.

“Of course we can hug,” Beca said. “I’ve had a wonderful afternoon with you Chloe.”

Chloe stood, her blanket slipping off her lap, and she wrapped her arms around Beca, and Beca hugged back as tight as she dared.

She buried her face in Chloe’s neck and breathed in.

She still smelled like Chloe.

“You know Beca, I think we’re gonna be really fast friends.”

And everything inside of Beca broke.

“Hey, what is it?” Chloe said, softly as Beca clung to her and cried.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Blake said. She stuck her head out of the door and called to her younger sister.

Chloe shot Blake a look of confusion as this apparent stranger sobbed into her shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Chloe said, softly. “Come on, now, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“I love you,” Beca whispered into her ear, choking it out between sobs. “Don’t forget that, okay? I love you.”

“Okay, that’s, um, very nice,” Chloe said.

Beca’s chest started feeling tight as she struggled to get air into her lungs.

“Why don’t you sit down? We can call a nurse and-”

“No,” Beca said, quickly, struggling to suck air into her useless lungs. “I just need… in my bag.”

“Here,” Blake said, handing her her inhaler.

“Thank you,” Beca said, taking several deep puffs from it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry, Chloe.”

She looked at Chloe again, and knew with certainty it was for the last time.

She had gotten a couple of minutes with Chloe - the real Chloe - this afternoon and that was more than she could have hoped for.

“It really was lovely to meet you Chloe,” she said.

“Yes, you too,” Chloe replied, although she sounded less than convincing. “See you another time?”

“I look forward to it,” Beca said.

“Riley, why don’t you make sure… Beca, here, gets to where she needs to be,” Blake said, looking between her parents with pain in her eyes.

“Sure,” Riley said.

When they were away from the room, Riley pulled her Mom into a hug.

“That was a rough one, huh?” Riley asked.

“Unbearable,” Beca said. “She was… she was back. I had her back for like, five minutes. And then…”

Riley kissed her on the head. “Come on, I’ll get one of the nurses to get you some tea and when we’re done we can drive you home.”

Beca frowned. “It’s Thursday. Is Blake not doing dinner?”

“No, she is, but you don’t usually feel like company after a bad visit,” Riley said.

Beca waved a hand of dismissal. “I wanna spend some time getting climbed on by my grandkids. Will your new lady be joining us?”

Riley blushed like a teenager, despite being in her forties. “Not tonight, Mom. It’s a bit soon for a family dinner.”

“Oh come on, you’ve been dating for months! I want to meet her, I have so many embarrassing stories to tell!”

“I know you do,” Riley said. “Which is why we’re gonna wait a few more weeks before we scare her off. Don’t worry, there are endless amounts of family dinners ahead of us for you to embarrass me at.”

Beca smiled. “Okay,” she said.

She hadn’t told the girls she was sick. They had enough in their plates with Chloe, and she didn’t want to add to it.

When the time came, yes, she knew they’d be hurt. She knew that hurt didn’t even come close to covering it. They had all but said their goodbyes to Chloe, but they had no idea that Beca would be beating her to the afterlife.

She knew if she asked them, they’d rather she told them.

It was cruel to blindside them, but in a way wasn’t it crueler to have them watch her slowly waste away in a hospital? To leave them saddled with medical bills that their inheritance would only just cover?

Because she knew her girls, they wouldn’t just let her slip away. They’d want her to fight, and Beca was too tired for fighting.

No. She wouldn’t do that to them. She had already written letters for all of them - including Chloe - and she had left instructions with her solicitors that they would get handed out after her death.

In her will, she’d left most of her money to her daughters and Blake’s four kids, along with a lump-sum donation to Barden Nursing Home.

Her affairs were in order.

The girls didn’t need to know.

“Mom? Are you ready?”

Beca smiled as her daughters approached, and she gratefully took Riley’s hand when she offered it.

She was quiet on the drive back to Blake’s house.

“Sure you’re up for dinner, Mom?” Blake asked, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

Beca smiled and nodded.

That night she basked in the attention of her grandkids.

The two twin boys - Jackson and Christopher, aged seven - kept trying to explain their favourite show to their grandmother.

They kept acting out scenes, speaking in odd voices, shooting each other with fake guns.

Beca tried to follow along but really she just wanted to watch them play.

The youngest - Davey, four - sat comfortably on her lap.

“Gram read it?” He said, holding up a book.

“Again?” Beca asked.

“Please?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Grandma!” Christopher said, pulling her attention back to him. “Grandma! Look! Then the bad guys do this!” He aimed a finger gun at his brother and deepened his voice. “Prepare to die!”

“Ah ha,” Beca said.

“Gram,” Davey tugged at her sleeve and then placed a hand on his book.

“Sorry,” Beca said, picking up where she left off from.

The noise and distraction was welcome.

It kept Beca’s mind from wandering. She needed a few hours where she wasn’t mourning Chloe.

It was working until ten year old Anne walked into the room, looking far too somber for any ten year old.

“Who’s upset you then?” Beca asked. “I might be old but I can still throw a punch.”

Anne smiled, but only just. “Is grandma better yet?”

Beca frowned. “No, honey. I’m sorry.”

Anne had been the apple of Chloe’s eye right up until the moment she started to forget her.

Blake and her husband David had made the decision early on that the kids shouldn’t visit Chloe. It would be too hard for them to see their grandma and have her not recognise them.

“Is she going to get better soon?”

Beca let out a small sigh. “I don’t know,” she said.

Anne’s face fell, and Beca’s heart broke.

She wished she didn’t have to leave these kids behind.

“Listen, your grandma loves you very much. And so do I. And we always will, no matter what.”

Davey started to fuss on Beca’s knee, and she turned her attention back to him.

“If I wrote grandma a letter, would you give it to her?” Anne asked. “I don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten her.”

Tears filled Beca’s eyes, and she smiled. “Of course. But you should give it to your Mom or aunt Riley. They’ll see her before I do.”

Anne nodded, and went off to her room.

The rest of the night continued the same way every Thursday night dinner did.

Blake complained that Beca ate too little and that her husband ate too much.

The twins would devour anything left too close to them, and Anne would pick out any bit of vegetable she found, no matter how small it had been cut up.

Then Beca would attempt to help with the dishes until she was told to cut it out, and Riley would drive her home.

Before she left that night, she hugged and kissed each of her grandkids, and told them all she loved them beyond comprehension.

She kissed Blake’s cheeks - standing on her tiptoes to do so - and briefly cupped her face in her hands. She told her she loved her too.

She patted David on the arm.

“You’re a good man,” she said. “You’ll take care of them.”

“Jeez, Mom, what’s got you so morbid?”

“Just the joys of ageing,” Beca said.

She didn’t know why she was feeling so sentimental that night, but she put it down to the emotion of the day.

In the car, Beca was quiet again.

“Something’s up with you,” Riley said.

“Today was tough,” Beca said, her head on the window. She turned to look at her daughter, and she seemed to transform in front of her eyes and back again. “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your mom?”

“You, every day since I was born,” Riley said, laughing as she ran a hand through her short, ginger hair.

“This new girlfriend of yours,” Beca said, “is she nice?”

“What? Yes, Mom, of course.”

“She treats you well? She’s kind? She doesn’t blow up at wait staff or lose her temper in traffic?”

“She’s great,” Riley said. “Look, you can meet her soon, okay? She’s just a bit nervous around parents. She… she didn’t get on great with her own. They weren’t cool when she came out.”

Beca let out a sigh. “Poor girl. You’d think my generation would have grown out of that. Apparently not. As long as she makes you happy, and treats you well, then that’s all that matters.”

Riley laughed. “What, are you trying to make sure I’m married off before you kick it?”

Beca laughed too. “No. I just want you to be happy, my girl.”

“I am,” Riley said. “And not because I’m in a relationship, but because I just… am.”

Beca smiled. “Good. I’ve… I’ve had a very good life, Ri. And I don’t think I realised how good it was, how lucky I was, until your Mom got sick. I wish I could go back and just… enjoy it. Savour it. Those moments I spent with your mom where we would just… talk. And be with each other. I wish I could tell myself to appreciate each and every one.” Beca wiped her eyes. “Promise me you’ll do that?”

“Mom, you sound like you’re giving me some goodbye speech.”

Beca smiled and shook her head. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Riley said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” Beca said.

They pulled up outside Beca’s home.

“You want me to walk you in?”

“I’m not that old yet. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, Mom.”

Beca smiled at her daughter, and leant across the car to kiss her cheek.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I need to pop into town and pick up a prescription.”

“I’ll take you.”

Beca smiled. “You’re a good girl. See you tomorrow.”

Riley waved and watched as her Mom walked into her house and shut the door behind her. She drove to her girlfriend’s, her heart heavy with sadness for her parents.

Maybe tonight she should tell Sarah that she loved her.

It was true, she had always just been too scared to say it.

She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of anymore.

Beca’s house was as quiet as it always was these days.

She made a cup of chamomile tea, and popped open the Thursday PM slot on her pill caddy. She took the handful of pills and swallowed them with a mouthful of tea.

Then she settled herself in her favourite armchair, and turned on some music.

She was tired.

Really tired.

It had been such a long day.

She felt a tightness in her chest, but it wasn’t any worse than usual so she thought nothing of it.

The song changed and the opening notes of Titanium played out.

This was considered an oldie now.

Beca smiled, and closed her eyes as she remembered the first time she sang that song with her wife.

God, what a life they’d had.

She didn’t open her eyes again.